Catch a Falling Star
by libraflyter
Summary: Marie Rogue comes to Sunnydale and finds asylum with the Summers. Set in Season Five, just after Checkpoint
1. Welcome to Sunnydale, Marie

Catch A Falling Star  
  
Disclaimer: I do not the X-men or Buffy universes. Duh.  
  
Summary: Marie(Rogue) comes to Sunnydale and finds asylum with the Summers family. Takes place in Season Five of Buffy, around Checkpoint, and at the point in Rogue's life where she was a runaway.  
  
Author's note: This story uses Rogue/Marie as the protagonist. However, I cheerily made adjustments to her and her past to fit my story. So if Marie doesn't look 100% familiar, don't be surprised. She'll be the most like the movie Marie or the Evolution Rogue, but I've fleshed out her story a bit.  
  
Feedback: Please! It won't get better without help. And it won't be continued if there's no audience.  
  
***  
  
The girl who entered Willy's attracted little attention from the customers, at first. Her pale skin and decidedly Gothic coloring made them think she was yet another vampire out for a night on the town. Only the steady beating of her heart and rhythmic breathing belied that. She was frail looking, all the more so in her bulky clothes - an oversized hooded sweatshirt, baggy jeans, hands hidden in fitted gloves. A ratty backpack was slung over shoulder. Anywhere else, she would have been just another lost kid. In a town like this, she was fresh meat.  
  
Her head was bowed down as she tried to avoid notice. She tried to slip into a dark corner of the room, but all the dark corners were taken. She stood off to the side of the bar, obviously unsure of what to do. Her head peeked up for a moment, as she looked over at the bartender. The girl was worrying her lip and frowning. Her dark, shadowed eyes kept flicking over to the bartender, the customers, then back to the bartender. Finally, she moved to speak with the bartender.  
  
That is, she would have. Before she was able to get his attention, one of the customers made his move.  
  
"You alone?" he grunted, grabbing the upper part of her arm. He was an indeterminate breed of demon, grayish skin covered with various ridges and scales. His nose was overly large, the nostrils flared as he enjoyed the scent of fresh, youthful meat.  
  
The girl looked down at his hand on her. "Let go," she whispered.  
  
The demon grinned, showing teeth to shame a shark. Fear was starting to come off her in waves. The other creatures in the bar smiled as the scent reached them, but otherwise did not respond to the girl and her plight.  
  
The girl tried to pull back from the demon.  
  
"Let go of me."  
  
This was starting to get fun. He tightened his grip with one clawed hand. His other hand transformed ever so slightly, talons extending. He moved to rake it across her face and release the necessary paralyzing venom.  
  
The girl cringed. Her struggles increased.  
  
"Don't TOUCH ME!"  
  
She twisted away just in time to avoid the raking claw.  
  
The bar patrons started to look up from their drinks. This was getting interesting.  
  
"Don't touch me, don't touch me," she chanted. Her panicked movements finally paid off. As she twisted, the demon's grip on her shirt loosened. He tripped backwards and fell on a patron, taking a piece of her shirt with him. The patron's drink was knocked over and spilled on the floor. The blood and scotch combination made a slowly spreading, sticky puddle.  
  
The owner of the spilled drink jumped up, his leather duster swirling about him. His face twisted into a demonic visage.  
  
"You're gonna pay for that, mate?"  
  
The demon snarled at the vampire. The traitor creature dared make demands of him? The potential meal temporarily forgotten, he leaped to his feet, ready to fight.  
  
The girl turned to go, wisely taking this chance to escape. However, one of the bystanders reached out and grabbed her again. If the claw demon survived this battle, he would be angry if he learned his dinner had run off.  
  
The rest of the bystanders began to place bets. No night was really complete without a bar fight and a betting pool on the winner.  
  
The two combatants circled each other. The tension was broken by the vampire abruptly throwing himself at the claw demon. They tussled briefly, snarling and punching. The vampire grinned, exulting in the violence. He pulled himself away from the other demon, taunting, "That's all you got?"  
  
The claw demon snarled again and charged the vampire. The vampire laughed, kicked him in the face, picked the demon off the floor, and snapped his neck. The body fell to the floor with a thump.  
  
The demon holding the girl let go. The intended diner was dead; there was no point in trying to hold on to a struggling girl. She bolted for the door. The rest of the customers didn't care. A runaway like that would become someone's dinner soon enough.  
  
The victorious vampire proceeded to check out his victim's pockets. Hopefully he'd get enough money to buy another drink.  
  
The damn demon had been broke. The vampire stormed off with a snarl. Lost his drink, can't afford another - unlife sucked. At least he got a good spot of violence in. That was fun.  
  
****  
  
He slammed the bar door behind him and started off for his crypt. Before he took three steps, he noticed the girl who started this whole mess leaning against the wall. Curiosity overcame him and he went over to speak with her.  
  
"What's a little bit like you doin' here?"  
  
The girl looked up. Her eyes were full of suspicion. "What do you care?"  
  
"I don't, really," he admitted as he joined her by the wall. "Just curious. You did get me into a fight, y'know."  
  
She shrugged. "Sorry about that."  
  
"Don't be. I'm always up for a good spot of violence." He paused. "So what were you doing in there?"  
  
"My ride dropped me off here."  
  
"Hitchhiked?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Picked yourself a hell of a ride. Only sort that brings you to a place like Willy's is setting you up for a nasty end."  
  
"I guessed that." The girl flicked her eyes over at him. "Why are you even bothering to ask?"  
  
"Don't know. I'm bored. Know a girl about your age, like her well enough. Seein' as I've saved your life, I've got an interest in you keeping it. Take your pick." The girl just gave another shrug. "I'm Spike, by the way."  
  
"Marie." "You got anywhere to go, Marie?"  
  
Seeing the direction this conversation was taking, Marie began to edge away. Casual talk was one thing. Now her warning alarms were going off.  
  
"If you haven't got a place to go, kid, you won't last the night. Not a young thing like you."  
  
"I'll be fine. I'm tougher than you think."  
  
"You almost died in there. That demon was fixing to have you for a snack."  
  
Marie's eyes narrowed. "I'd have survived."  
  
"Really?" Spike nodded towards the torn shoulder of her shirt. "Picture those claws shredding a bit more." He reached a hand out to her. "The poison and the blood loss would've killed you quick enough."  
  
He was becoming too close to Marie for comfort's sake. She backed away quickly.  
  
"DON'T TOUCH ME!"  
  
Spike held up his hands in surrender. "Not fixing to hurt you, bit. Just offering some help."  
  
"Why should you want to help me?" Marie challenged. "Why should you care?"  
  
"Don't really care. But," he remarked, "I know people who do. You die tonight, they'll blame it on me sure enough." His voice grew bitter. "It's always Spike's fault." Once again his tone changed, becoming friendly. "Listen, I know somewhere you can go. Somewhere safe."  
  
Marie doubted this was a purely altruistic offer. There had to be some catch. She knew he was some kind of night monster (all her months of traveling had taught her of their existence) but he didn't seem intent on putting her on his menu. If he was being honest, she'd have a place to sleep. If not - there were ways of protecting herself. Even if she died inside every time she used them.  
  
Seeing her consent, Spike began to pull her along. Marie yanked herself away. "Never touch me," she hissed. She fumbled in her backpack for something. Pulling out a long, ratty scarf, she wrapped it around the gaping hole in her shirt. Only after the impromptu patch was completed did she start to follow him again. Holes like that had to be covered as soon as possible.  
  
They seemed to cover half the town in pursuit of this promised safe place. Spike finally stopped in front of a house. The street sign said Revello Drive; the mailbox read 1630. Marie felt a little bit better. The house seemed like a standard suburban affair. The front porch light was on, as well as the lights inside.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, Marie saw Spike straighten. There was something about his body language which reminded her of when Cody would go up and talk to her, before they started dating. That aura of false confidence, especially. She remembered how much courage it had taken to confront Marie, how afraid of rejection she had been. She remembered saying and doing silly things hoping to impress Marie.  
  
What was she doing here? Shouldn't she be home, watching football with her father?  
  
Marie shook herself out of that train of thought. Moments like that were fewer and farther between, but they were still unfortunately happening. At least she had kept quiet this time.  
  
Spike was now walking up to the door. Marie trotted behind him. By now, she was feeling tired from her trip, the fight, and the walk. The possibility of a place to lie down on was welcoming.  
  
Spike rang the bell. Marie wondered why he was being so polite. He struck her as the sort who'd just barge in without regard to social conventions.  
  
A woman opened the door. She had a motherly sort of face and tired eyes. Seeing her guest, she frowned a little.  
  
"Spike, why are you here?"  
  
Spike jerked his head to indicate Marie. "I've got someone who could use a place to stay, Joyce. Found her at Willy's. Just came into town."  
  
As Spike was finishing his explanation, a blonde head peeked out over Joyce's shoulder. Marie guessed her to be in her early twenties, only a few years older than herself. The blonde made a face upon seeing Spike.  
  
"What are YOU doing here, Spike?" the blonde snapped.  
  
Spike nodded to her. "Buffy."  
  
Marie watched them quietly. She got that when-Cody-had-a-crush-on-me deja vu feeling again.  
  
The aforementioned Buffy scowled at him. "Why do you keep showing up here?"  
  
"Not out of any desire to see you," he bit out. "Found a girl at Willy's. She needs a place to stay, away from the nasties. Thought your mum would be willing to put up with her for the night. Anymore questions?"  
  
The "bitch" went unspoken, but it was there in his voice.  
  
"Yeah. Why would you care about keeping some stranger from the 'nasties', Spike?"  
  
"My good deed of the day?"  
  
"You don't do good deeds. You're a vampire."  
  
Spike opened his mouth for a retort, only to be cut off by Joyce.  
  
"Stop it!" The two looked abashed for a moment. Ignoring them, Joyce directed her attention towards Marie. "Why don't you come into the light?"  
  
Marie stepped forward, uncomfortably. "I don't want to be any trouble, ma'am. If you want me to leave, I will."  
  
She shifted awkwardly when she heard Buffy mutter, "Probably just some vamp Spike picked up to get invited in and kill us."  
  
Joyce glared at her daughter, effectively shutting her up. "What's your name?"  
  
"Marie, ma'am."  
  
"Well, then, Marie, you look like you could use a place to sleep. Why don't you come in?"  
  
Marie entered the house timidly. Buffy continued to radiate hostility; Joyce continued to offer a friendly smile.  
  
"I'm Joyce Summers, Marie. Buffy, why don't you get some blankets from upstairs so we can make up the couch for her? She looks like she's about to collapse from exhaustion."  
  
Buffy left, still sulking. Joyce made a note to talk to her daughter about manners and dealing with company.  
  
"Guess I'll be off then," said Spike. He turned to leave, giving Buffy's retreating form one last glare before stalking off into the night.  
  
With the other two gone, Joyce focused on Marie  
  
The girl was obviously a run away. Her bedraggled clothes, ratty pack, and point of arrival to Sunnydale all indicated that. Joyce felt a pang of sadness, wondering if Marie's mother was sitting up late that night, praying for her daughter. When Buffy had taken off that summer, she had spent every night (and every day) worrying about her fate. Joyce was decidedly grateful Spike had brought Marie by, regardless of why he did it. Sunnydale was not a kind place to its residents. To the lost ones like Marie, it would be brutal.  
  
Why was Marie here? What was she running from? She was certainly far from home - her accent spoke of the South, a soft and graceful drawl. It was probably a miracle she had come this far in one piece. If it could be called that - Marie's eyes were surrounded by dark circles and haunted. Was that why she was running, or did that pain come from what she had seen while running?  
  
"Is it okay if I set my bag down, Mrs. Summers?" Marie asked timidly.  
  
"Yes, go right ahead," Joyce responded. "Do you want a sleep shirt? I'm sure we can find something more comfortable for you. You must be so hot in that sweatshirt."  
  
Marie pulled her sweatshirt in tight. Give up her protective layers of cloth? "I'm fine. Thank you, ma'am."  
  
A few awkward moments later, Buffy came downstairs with blankets, as requested. She was still giving Marie the evil eye.  
  
"Mom, I don't like you inviting strangers in here."  
  
"Buffy!"  
  
"Well, I don't. We don't know anything about her."  
  
Joyce grabbed the blankets from her daughter and walked over to the couch. "I know that when you took your jaunt off to L.A. I would have jumped for joy if I knew some nice person would be giving you a helping hand. Marie, pay her no mind. You're perfectly welcome to stay here."  
  
Marie was glad Mrs. Summers was being nice about this. Too rarely in her travel did she meet such genuinely kind people. Usually there was some hidden trick, like Spike's eagerness to help her. Marie was sure he had some hidden agenda there, maybe something to do with Buffy. But why he had then proceeded to fight her was beyond her.  
  
"Let me help you with that, Mrs. Summers."  
  
"No, I've got it." Joyce made a few corrections to her impromptu bed on the couch. "This should do for the night. Don't be surprised if my other daughter, Dawn, wakes you up tomorrow morning; she has school."  
  
Having finished the bed, Joyce turned to Marie. "Have a good night's sleep." Her hand moved forward to deliver a gentle, motherly caress. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern when Marie flinched away. There were scars there, to be certain. She hoped Marie would stay long enough for a chance to heal them.  
  
After Joyce had gone upstairs to bed, Marie finally lay down and tried to sleep. It felt so strange, being in a place like this. The home was warm feeling and cared for. Lying here in the dark, she could feel the love that permeated the home of a happy family. She pretended for a second she was back home, in a time when things were good. That illusion was quickly shattered when Buffy walked into the room.  
  
"You may be just a runaway looking for a place to stay," Buffy said calmly. "And if you are, you're welcome to it. But if you aren't - you hurt my mother, you hurt my sister, I will make you pay. Do you understand?"  
  
Marie nodded silently.  
  
"Good."  
  
With that, Buffy turned and left the room.  
  
Marie burrowed back into the sheets. As long as she kept all her shields up, nothing would go wrong. She just had to keep her distance until she could leave Sunnydale. Otherwise, she would hurt people. She always did when she let them come too close. 


	2. Let Me Help

Flash! Music playing in the background. One of those pop songs heard everywhere for two months, then forgotten.  
  
Two teens, kissing. A first kiss, shy and gentle.  
  
The intensity grows. A little more aggressive now. Hands reach out and pull the other closer.  
  
The boy falls to the ground, gasping for air. His skin has grown tight and crackled. His eyes do not focus.  
  
Flash! Confusion. Asking friends what's wrong. Split in two. Called the wrong name. No, that is me. What's going on?  
  
Trying to get home. Seek haven in my room. Look in the mirror. Not my face there.  
  
Run.  
  
Flash!  
  
"I saw it! It was like she sucked the life right out of him."  
  
"What kind of freak is she?"  
  
"She's not my daughter. I have no daughter."  
  
"Three weeks. In a coma for three weeks."  
  
"Must be some kind of monster."  
  
Demon, thief, succubus, vampire, life sucker. Echoes all around.  
  
Breaking inside. Shards fall and no one cries.  
  
Run.  
  
***  
  
"Hey, you, wake up!"  
  
Hands shaking her. Marie jerked away before opening her eyes.  
  
A brown haired girl stood by the couch, hands now on her hips as if to say, "Mind telling me what you're doing in my living room?". Marie guessed her age to be around fourteen, only three years younger than herself.  
  
"Good morning! Who are you?"  
  
Marie blinked away the sleep in her eyes. The nightmare had left her drained and not without a little mental turmoil. As she returned to full consciousness, Cody and his friends surged to the forefront. Wincing a little, Marie tried to sort them back into their proper places. As she went about her daily battle to control her own mind, she could've sworn the girl turned green.  
  
Marie rubbed her eyes. The girl had gone back to being just a girl. With her vision back to normal, she felt up for answering the question.  
  
"I'm Marie. Mrs. Summers let me stay here for the night. I'll be leaving soon."  
  
"Oh." The girl shrugged. "I'm Dawn. You want breakfast? I was about to get some."  
  
Marie perked up at the idea of food. The last time she had eaten had been far too long ago. She could have a nice full breakfast, wait long enough to thank her hostess, then be on her way.  
  
She followed Dawn to what was presumably the kitchen. The younger girl chatted cheerfully all the way, displaying an energy that made Marie feel positively lethargic. Marie found it interesting that Dawn seemed to accept her presence unconditionally. Dawn acted as if having a stranger sleep in your house overnight was perfectly natural.  
  
Marie guessed that she shouldn't be so surprised. According to Buffy, the man who had brought her here was a vampire. And he was at the very least a family acquaintance, if not friend. She would bet what little money she had, all three dollars and fifty two cents, that said vampire had a serious crush on the older Summers girl. In retrospect, finding a stranger in your living room was nothing.  
  
"So when did you get here last night?" Dawn asked, breaking her reverie.  
  
Marie frowned. Actually, she wasn't sure when, precisely. "Somewhere between eleven and twelve?" she hazarded. It could have been closer to one, for all she knew. Time was not something she bothered to keep track of.  
  
Dawn considered this piece of information. "I must have been asleep by then," she decided. Having established the point of arrival, Dawn focused on means. "Who brought you here? Or did you, like, just randomly knock on doors before getting in? 'Cause that would be a really stupid thing to do. Asking for invites is so not cool."  
  
"He said his name was Spike - "  
  
"Spike!" Dawn squealed. Then paused. "Where would you even meet Spike?"  
  
Shrug. "Willy's, I think, was the name."  
  
"Cool." Dawn breathed. "Buffy would never let me even near Willy's."  
  
"I don't blame her." Marie grimaced, remembered the demon who had attacked her. "It's an awful place."  
  
"Did Spike save you or something?" Dawn asked, as she poured two bowls of cereal.  
  
"No. I guess you could say I got him into a fight."  
  
"Really? Why? Was there some sort of demon?" Dawn paused. "You do know about demons, right? 'Cause if you were in Willy's and you didn't, that'd be really stupid."  
  
Shrug. "First I've heard them called demons, but yeah, I know about the night monsters."  
  
Dawn nodded. Abruptly changing tactics, she asked, "Where are you from?"  
  
Marie decided it wouldn't hurt to answer as she dug into the cereal. "Mississippi."  
  
"You came all the way from Mississippi to Sunnydale? Wow, that's really far."  
  
Marie didn't correct her. Actually, she had gone from Mississippi to Boston, from Boston to Chicago, from Chicago to Des Moines. It was in Des Moines that she had heard of Sunnydale, California. Believing it as good a destination as any, she had come here. Now she was starting to think it was a bad idea.  
  
She had yet to be here for twenty four hours, but even then there seemed something odd about this town. She felt edgy and exposed, as if something was going to jump out and grab her.  
It might be a good idea to start looking at ways to leave town. Maybe check out Seattle this time of year?  
  
A horn honked outside.  
  
"Nice to meet you, Marie," Dawn said cheerily before bolting for the door. "That's my ride, bye!"  
  
Marie watched the ball of energy zoom off to school. She remembered what it was like to have that kind of faith in the world. Sighing, she finished her breakfast. You never knew when your next meal was.  
  
After polishing off two bowls of cereal, Marie cleaned up the dishes. As she was putting the bowls in the dishwasher, Joyce made an appearance.  
  
"How was your night, Marie?"  
  
"Fine, thank you for the couch, Mrs. Summers."  
  
"Did you meet Dawn, then?"  
  
"She left for school about ten minutes ago, ma'am."  
  
Joyce smiled. "Good to hear that. Have you had breakfast, then?"  
  
"Dawn offered some - was that okay?"  
  
"It definitely was okay. At least one of my daughters learned manners."  
  
There was an awkward pause. Marie wondered how to politely thank Joyce for the hospitality, then go on her way. Maybe just a short trip to L.A., make plans from there? Or San Francisco, she always wanted to see the Golden Gate Bridge.  
  
As if reading her mind, Joyce gently asked, "What are your plans, Marie? Are you going to stay here or keep moving?"  
  
Marie looked away. "I'll keep moving, I guess. Shouldn't be hard to reach a bigger city, maybe Los Angeles. That's only an hour or two away, right?"  
  
Joyce wondered how to ask the next question. It went against every instinct she had as a mother to let the teenager go out that door to parts unknown. "You could stay here, Marie."  
  
"Thank you for the offer, Mrs. Summers, but - "  
  
"I'd like to help you, Marie."  
  
Marie looked down at the linoleum. How many times had someone offered to help her, seriously and unconditionally? Four? Five? And every time, the worst happened and she had to start running again.  
  
Joyce switched tactics. "Buffy disappeared for a whole summer, once. She and I had a fight, said a lot of things that shouldn't have been. I didn't see her until that fall. Didn't know where she was or if she was alive or dead. She was just gone for three months."  
  
Joyce let that sit there for a moment for Marie to think about. Those three months had easily been the worst in her life. Spending each day worrying about her daughter's fate. Blaming herself for words spoken thoughtlessly. Even though three years had passed and her daughter was home safe, she still had nightmares.  
  
Marie was lost in her own thoughts. Mrs. Summers seemed like a wonderful lady. And she was tempted to give in and accept the offer. To let herself relax and just be Marie, to let herself become a part of something again.  
  
But that couldn't be. Marie didn't know what she was, but she doubted it could be something good. Whatever she was, it was dark and evil and hurtful. It ripped her into pieces while harming those who reached out to her. When she was attacked, the monsters' thoughts would creep inside and taint her. When she dared accept help, she would eventually hurt them. And as soon as she did hurt them, they would slip inside to wail over their betrayal. Marie didn't know which was worse; seeing the evil of others or feeling the evil she caused.  
  
And how could she explain what happened, when she barely understood herself? Especially in a place like this, where other dark and evil things abounded. No. If she dared try and say what she dreaded, she would face the hate and fear that had driven her from her home in the first place.  
  
Mumbling an apology and a thank you, Marie grabbed her bag and left. It was too tempting to stay.  
  
Joyce watched her go, unable to react fast enough and stop her. Her daughter fought monsters and demons and horrific creatures of the night, but how did one fight whatever was haunting that poor girl?  
  
***  
  
Marie wandered the streets of Sunnydale, eating a rather unappetizing burger called the Doublemeat Medley. She doubted it qualified as real food, but it cost only ninety-nine cents and was something. She wondered why she had bothered; she had eaten a good breakfast that morning, before rudely skipping out on her host. The money would have been better saved to spend tomorrow.  
  
Whatever. Marie made a face as she took another bite. She had spent the day trying to hitch a ride to at least the next town over, but hadn't even gotten a car to slow down. Guess these people knew it was stupid to pick up hitchhikers. Her next plan was to jump on a train. The schedule said there was one leaving at ten tonight. By her reckoning, she had about three hours to kill.  
  
After finishing the disgusting mass of processed whatever called food, she tossed the wrapper into a nearby trash can. Score!  
  
At least she had kept Cody's reflexes.  
  
Marie continued to wander down the street, debating what to do next.  
  
While she was considering what to do until the train came, something hit her from behind. It was big, it was heavy, and more importantly, it was invading her personal space. A hand grabbed her hair and pulled it aside, exposing her neck. Another hand tried to pull away the high collar that hid her neck. Marie jerked forward, seeking to escape whatever was holding her. Her captor growled in response.  
  
Marie smashed her head backwards before throwing her weight forward. Upon striking the face of her attacker, something wet spurted and soaked into her hair. She must have bloodied his nose. Thankfully, her attacker dropped her after that.  
  
Marie fell to the ground, knees jarring sharply against the pavement. Her gloved hands hit and the fabric tore a little at impact. Ow.  
  
Wincing, Marie turned to face her assailant. It was a night monster, a vampire. The twisted and fanged visage leered at her, blood dripping from a broken nose. As she struggled to her feet, he stepped towards her, bloodlust in his eyes.  
  
She turned to run, but tripped instead and fell again, the pain shooting through her ankle this time. This did not look good. Marie started to pull off a glove . She was NOT going to die like this.  
  
Thankfully, she was saved from so drastic a tactic. Someone tapped the vampire on the shoulder. He spun to face this new threat, receiving a punch in the nose.  
  
"If you get a bloody nose, you're supposed to pinch it and tip your head backwards," Buffy announced. The vampire rushed her, only to be sent spinning with a quick kick. "Or maybe you're supposed to tip your head forwards. I can never remember."  
  
"Slayer!" the vampire hissed, circling her a bit more warily now that he recognized his attacker.  
  
"That's me." Buffy struck him abruptly across the face before landing a punch in the gut. "And you're dust." As the vamp sought to recover from the blows, Buffy rammed a stake into his heart. Time seemed to freeze about him for a second. Then the vampire exploded into dust.  
  
"Stupid fledge. Didn't even deserve a clichéd half-assed quip." Buffy turned to check out the would be meal. "You okay?"  
  
Marie was debating whether or not to surprised Buffy had appeared out of nowhere, took on a vampire, and was apparently known as the Slayer. She decided to be mildly bemused. This at least explained why the Summers family knew a vampire.  
  
"I'm fine," Marie said as she slowly got to her feet, wincing as she put weight on her ankle.  
  
Buffy blinked, finally recognizing the girl. "Marie?" Buffy had thought Marie had left town. That was what her mom had said.  
  
"That's me," Marie answered, echoing Buffy's earlier words.  
  
"Need a hand?"  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
Buffy moved forward, hands out to support the already wobbling Marie. "You sure?"  
  
Marie pulled away, almost unbalancing herself. "Don't touch me. I'm fine. 'Sides, I thought you didn't trust me."  
  
Buffy shrugged. "Sorry about that. Believe me, Mom gave me quite a lecture about how my 'rude behavior' might have driven you off. Besides, any baddie worth it's salt would not have been touched by that sorry excuse of a vampire."  
  
"Thanks. I think." Marie started to tentatively step in the direction of the train station. After about three feet, her ankle screamed in protest and decided to go on strike. Her knees buckled. Buffy quickly caught her.  
  
"I don't know where you think you're going, but my mom is going to kill me if I don't bring you home."  
  
"I'm fine," Marie bit out for what seemed like the umpteenth time.  
  
"Yeah. Fine. Your ankle is sprained and you have blood in your hair. I don't want to know what your definition of bad is."  
  
Marie grimaced. She could cope with the ankle, but the idea of spending who knows how long with dried blood in her hair was too much. She acquiesced and allowed Buffy to guide her back to Revello Drive.  
  
***  
  
"Welcome back, Marie," Joyce said, smiling as she saw Buffy help the younger girl into the house.  
  
"You have blood in your hair," Dawn offered helpfully from her seat on the couch. Joyce glared at her youngest. So much for manners.  
  
Marie gave Mrs. Summers an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry I ran out like that, ma'am."  
  
Joyce waved it away. "I'm just happy to see you back here." In a gentler tone of voice, she added, "We can help you, Marie, if you let us." She entered hostess mode. "Buffy, help Marie upstairs to the shower. She'll be wanting to wash up. Dawn, you look about Marie's size. Go through your closet and get some clean clothes for Marie."  
  
An hour later, Marie made her way downstairs, hand tight on the rail. Her ankle was feeling better; it was probably only bruised and would be fine in a day or two. Her hair was the cleanest it had been in way too long. Her borrowed clothes were a decent fit. Thankfully, Dawn's offerings included a long sleeved turtleneck, loose enough that her gloves didn't make any uncomfortable wrinkles in the fabric.  
  
Marie wondered if this time her luck would finally turn good. The Summers, even Buffy now, seemed willing to give her a hand and to help. Maybe this time she could stay, stop running long enough to pull herself together.  
  
She paused on the last step. Voices were coming from the kitchen. The conversation drifted to her ears.  
  
"Honey, we were fine without you here - "  
  
" - Mom, you know I worry about stuff like that. I'm the Slayer, it's my job, remember? Fight evil? Kill the bad things?"  
  
Fight evil and kill the bad things. Marie smiled bitterly. She finally finds a place where she might be able to rest, and it is the home of the Slayer. Who apparently was supposed to kill bad and evil things.  
  
And there was one thing that Marie knew. Whatever she might be, whatever power she held, it could only be a bad and evil thing.  
  
A hope that had just begun to rise broke and fell, sharp pieces of glass biting inside. There could be no rest or peace for something like her.  
  
The words from her dream (and past) came rushing to her mind's ears. Monster, demon, thief, succubus, vampire, life sucker. And she knew it was all true.  
  
"Marie, would you like some hot chocolate?" Joyce asked, coming out of the kitchen to check on her guest.  
  
Marie forced a smile. "Yes, thank you, ma'am."  
  
There was no reason she couldn't enjoy it while it lasted. When it stopped, well, there was always the road.  
  
She could always run. 


	3. Flip Out

Author's Note: Thanks for reviewing: A Watcher, wllw979, Lisette, jen, andy, bob, BadBoyLover, Tassos, Deacon, and manticore-gurl071134  
  
A/N2: Some of the ideas and themes used in Catch A Falling Star were in a four issue series on Rogue (I think it was part of a larger series called Icons). Since that's what mostly inspired my particular take, I felt that credit had to be given.  
  
***  
  
"You know, there is no law that says you must wear shapeless lumps of clothing," Buffy offered as they walked through the department store. Joyce's first step in the Help Marie program had been "get her some new clothes of her own". So far, Buffy was unimpressed with Marie's choices.  
  
Said choices consisted of loose fitting, long sleeved shirts, baggy jeans, and even baggier sweatshirts. All of which were either black, black, or, when Marie was adventurous, very dark gray bordering on black.  
  
Marie shrugged, ignoring Buffy's commentary. The looser the fit, the more it covered. The darker the color, the easier it was to hide. And hiding had been her entire focus for the past two years.  
  
"I agree with Buffy," Dawn chimed in. "Why can't you pick something cooler?"  
  
Marie sighed, stopping by a display of tank tops. They wouldn't give up until they had an answer. "Because I can't expose myself like that." She pointed at the mannequin, barely covered by the low-slung jeans and skimpy tank.  
  
"Why?" Dawn asked.  
  
Such a very good question, why.  
  
"I would feel uncomfortable."  
  
"Oh." Dawn considered this new information. She walked over to another display table, "Then how about this?"  
  
She was holding up a long sleeved shirt with a deep v-neck. It was a dark plum color with embroidered flowers along the collar. "Wear this over a t-shirt and voila, stylish yet covered!"  
  
"Good choice, Dawn," Buffy clapped. Then she put in her own two cents. "Shirt like that is long enough you could wear those fitted jeans over there."  
  
Marie stared at the shirt Dawn was holding. It was pretty. And her suggestions meant she could still be 100% covered up. She reached over to finger the fabric. It was a light material; she wouldn't be suffocating like usual. Then she checked the price tag.  
  
"I couldn't ask you for this," she said, gesturing at the tag.  
  
"Whatever," Buffy waved her hand, blithely ignoring all things money. "I hold the mighty power that is Mom's credit card. And her specific instructions to get you 'some nice outfits'. We've got, what do you call it, carte blanche."  
  
Dawn nodded emphatically. "We're, like, on a mission. Money holds no bounds for us. Besides," she added, "this is better than my own dress- up Barbie."  
  
Over Marie's continued protests, Buffy and Dawn managed to find two other outfits that met Marie's criteria (meaning, a nun wouldn't be ashamed to wear them). As they were going to the cash register, another display caught Marie's eye  
  
Gloves. Long ones that reached the elbow. Shorter ones for hands only. All sorts of colors. All under the most important sign of all. SALE.  
  
Marie rushed over, spying a three quarter length pair, a nice pearl gray, almost white. She was using her secondary pair; her other set had been too torn up in the fight with the vampire. Marie checked out the size. They fit!  
  
"Jeez, Marie, what is it with you and gloves," Dawn teased. She knew better than go deeper than that; Marie got awfully defensive if you bothered her about why she wore gloves. It was probably, like, some weird safety blanket thing. Mom had told her to lay off about it, "There's no reason to traumatize the poor girl."  
  
Marie blushed, "May I please?"  
  
"Sure, sure. Though why you get all excited over gloves instead of that totally awesome shoe sale, I totally don't get."  
  
Marie smiled, adding the gloves to the pile. "Thank you."  
  
Buffy paid for the purchases, "Oh the joys of Mom's credit card," and then they left. Step One in the Help Marie program was a success.  
  
***  
  
After leaving the store, Buffy directed them to the Magic Box. "Sorry we can't go straight home. I promised Giles I would stop in."  
  
As they walked down the street, Marie turned to Dawn and asked, "Who is Giles?"  
  
"Um, kind of like Buffy's mentor helper figure guy. He owns the Magic Box; they sell a lot of cool stuff. Like magic books and charms and eye of salamander - "  
  
"Eye of salamander? I thought it was supposed to be eye of newt."  
  
"Eye of newt is to expensive, according to Giles. It's kind of funny, 'cause, Willow, she's a Wicca, has this whole name brand thing going with the eye of newt. Look! We're here."  
  
It didn't look so very different from the other stores. A big sign proclaimed "Magic Box"; an attractive window display beckoned shoppers. Marie smiled as they entered. She always liked shop bells that chimed when the door opened.  
  
Buffy bee-lined to the back of the store, pausing only to admonish Dawn, "You break it, you buy it." Dawn only rolled her eyes before strolling over to a table set in one corner, dropping a shopping bag with a thump.  
  
Marie, however, didn't feel comfortable enough to sit down and drop things with a thump. She opted to try and blend in with one of the displays.  
  
However, the woman behind the cash register wouldn't let her hide.  
  
"Hello, welcome to the Magic Box. How may I take your money?"  
  
Huh? Did she understand correctly?  
  
"If you are not going to make a purchase, please step away from the window. If you are in front of salable goods, real customers might not be able to buy them."  
  
"I-I'm sorry, ma'am," Marie mumbled, embarrassed. She stepped away, only stand awkwardly in the middle of the shop.  
  
The other people in the shop felt sorry for her.  
  
"Don't mind Anya," a red head said, "she's always like that."  
  
"You can sit over here," the blonde sitting next to the red head offered.  
  
A dark haired man got up and spoke to Anya(?). "Honey, remember how we talked about not scaring people away."  
  
Anya sighed, nodded and then turned to Marie, "I am sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable." Sulkily, she added, "But you were standing in front of the merchandise."  
  
"Who are you?" Marie asked timidly.  
  
"We're Buffy's pals. I'm Xander, and this is Anya."  
  
"Willow."  
  
"Tara."  
  
"You must be Marie," Willow said with a smile. "Mrs. Summers' guest." She nodded towards the bags. "Been shopping?"  
  
"Yes. Mrs. Summers is a very generous lady."  
  
"So she is."  
  
A silence fell over the room. Feeling stupid just standing there, Marie took Willow up on the offer to sit down.  
  
The silence continued.  
  
"So," Xander said, unable to let the quiet continue, "how did you meet the Summers ladies?"  
  
"Um, I was at Willy's and was attacked - "  
  
"Buffy came in and saved the day?"  
  
"No, actually my attacker knocked into Spike; they got into a fight and Spike won; then Spike offered to help me find a place to stay."  
  
"Spike did a good deed? What is the world coming to," Xander joked.  
  
Marie shrugged. Spike hadn't seemed that evil to her, for all he was a vampire. She bit her lip, debating whether or not to ask her own question. Deciding that she needed to know, beyond snippets caught from eavesdropping, she asked, "What's a Slayer?"  
  
They exchanged glances, silently debating whether or not to answer her question.  
  
"I know that Spike's a vampire and about demons and such."  
  
Taking that as an all-clear, Willow piped up, deciding to answer the question. "Slayer's a girl given special powers to fight, I think the direct quote is, 'the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness'. There's always been a Slayer."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Marie stared at the table. Guess she came under the Slayer's purview after all. Brain suckers or whatever she was had to be a force of darkness. She would have to be careful, in case the Slayer found out. Marie didn't want to leave; she was finally getting a chance to rest.  
  
You deserve it, a voice in her head hissed. Lying, cheating slut. Took you in and helped you, what did you do? Betrayed me, stole a part of me. Hate that girl, thief she stole she did, what am I doing in a den of evil like this. Satan worshippers all, I bet. Repent and be - No she didn't, she had to open the store, it was always a good idea to open early. Why did she care about a store? Pretty little girl in front of her, what did stores matter? Stop the dark thoughts, let me help you, what about my test, football game tomorrow, have to pick up my daughter for her doctor's appointment, kill the hitch hiking brat, got to get to the bank early, god I need a beer -  
  
Once the floodgates were opened, it was almost impossible to close them. Hey, you got any dope? I have to go to work, how hard d'you think it would be to knock off that store, walk the dog, got a quarter, does this skirt make me look fat? I wish it hadn't come to this, can you believe what I heard, hey, that chick's hot, I wonder if she's easy -  
  
"Marie! Marie, are you okay?" Willow reached over to shake the unresponsive girl. Nothing happened.  
  
Tara frowned. "Her aura just went crazy. Something is very wrong. Something in her mind."  
  
"Marie!"  
  
At the very back of a mob, a lost girl heard her name being called. But everyone in front of her was so much bigger and taller than she; they wouldn't let her through. Some of them didn't notice her at all and the ones that did blocked her way and called her names. They scared the lost girl and made her want to hide.  
  
"Marie!"  
  
The lost girl found herself getting braver. Someone obviously wanted her back. They liked her, maybe. They knew her name. Not the other people's names, but her name. She was Marie.  
  
I'm Marie, I'm Marie, I'm Marie, the little girl chanted as she pushed through the crowd. With every inch of her focused on that one thought, the people in front of her shrank away and went into hiding instead of her.  
  
"Marie!" Dawn shouted, trying to get her new friend back. "Marie!"  
  
For a brief second, Marie's eyes focused on the form in front of her. "Green," she whispered, "pretty green light."  
  
"Marie!"  
  
With a jerk, she returned to reality, sanity fully restored. She was surrounded by concerned faces, all wanting to know what had happened.  
  
"I'm fine," she insisted. "Just zoned for a moment."  
  
"Try five minutes," Willow told her worriedly. "We almost called 911. You weren't just zoned, you were practically gone."  
  
The rest offered sounds of agreement and concern. Marie tried to pull away from them, not wanting to answer their questions. Why did she have to lose control like this, around people who noticed? People who maybe even cared?  
  
"What's up guys?" Buffy asked, reappearing from the back room. "Something happen?"  
  
"Marie did a scary zoning flip out thing," Dawn informed her. "It was like she was in a coma or something."  
  
"Wow. You okay, Marie?"  
  
"I'm FINE."  
  
"Five minutes," Willow announced. "Eyes didn't track, didn't respond to noises, and she started hyperventilating."  
  
Marie shrugged. "It was nothing. You finished, Buffy?"  
  
Buffy was in the midst of eye signaling something to her friends. Deciding that her message was understood, she answered, "Sure. Let's go."  
  
***  
  
"I think Buffy wants us research what's up with Marie," Willow announced after the Summers and their guest had left. "That girl needs help. There's no way that was natural."  
  
"Maybe she's an epileptic or something," Xander offered. "It doesn't have to be something hellmouth-y."  
  
"Her aura changed when she had that episode. Almost like Buffy's when Faith took over her body. "  
  
Willow frowned. This was a mystery. And mysteries were meant to be solved. And why did Marie start talking about green light?  
  
***  
  
Marie huddled on the couch, afraid to go to sleep. Buffy and Dawn, thankfully, hadn't pressed her too hard about the episode, but if she had another, that would change.  
  
She shivered at the thought. That was the worst one in a long time. Whenever it got that bad, she feared that she wouldn't come back. That the lost girl would quietly fade away and never be heard from again; that the echoes would take control. 


	4. Maelstrom in Her Mind

Thanks for the reviews: smokinbarrel, marigold1, Kristy Marie, liliaeth, Alex, Jimbiny Lupin-Wood, Ann of Midnight, and A Watcher.  
  
Chapter Four  
  
"Have you found anything out yet, guys?" Buffy asked, a few days after Marie's freak out. They were at the Magic Box, helping Giles and Anya with inventory.  
  
"Nothing, Buffy," Willow answered with a shake of her head, "But it's not like we have a lot to go on. She hasn't gotten all spacey since, and it only lasted five minutes. Bad, but not fitting anything we checked out."  
  
"I still think it's non-Hellmouthy. She obviously ran away from home and has some issues," Xander suggested, "maybe it's just trauma or stress disorder or whatever they call it."  
  
"No, her aura wasn't right for that. I can't describe what happened, but it wasn't just mental stress. There's something more to it. Honey," Tara turned to her girlfriend, "did you look up after-effects of personality spells?"  
  
Willow nodded. "First thing, 'cause of what you said about the aura. The whole zone thing fits the description, but Marie doesn't have a rash, her hair hasn't turned white, and most importantly, she's still alive.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Buffy, don't take this the wrong way, but we've kind of been focused in other research type areas. With Glory and the Key and all. Unless Marie starts to seriously go crazy, she's taking a back seat to the rest."  
  
"I know. Believe me, I know how important the Glory info is. But whenever you get a chance, can you look into it?" Buffy asked. She'd been feeling really guilty about being so bitchy to Marie before, especially since Marie had turned out to be so nice. After learning about her mom's operation, Marie had devoted herself to helping Joyce out.  
  
"We will, but until something happens, we've got zip," Willow pointed out.  
  
"Hey, Buffy!" Dawn popped into the room, effectively ending all Scooby talk. "Giles wants you to go lift some heavy stuff!"  
  
Buffy made a face, "Duty calls."  
  
"Ah, the burdens of super powers," Xander teased.  
  
Buffy gave him a good natured swat on the shoulder before leaving to go move whatever heavy thing Giles wanted moved.  
  
She found him in the basement, examining a big sculpture thing. It was an angular incomprehensible blob of metal, in her opinion. Buffy guessed that is was probably some expensive statue-type thing.  
  
Marie stood next to Giles, having also been roped into inventory duty. From her expression, Buffy guessed Marie agreed with the whole makes- no-sense interpretation of the metal blob.  
  
"Buffy!" Giles finally noticed his Slayer. "Anya seems to think this," he waved his hand about, "monstrosity would make a good display piece. Could you bring it upstairs?"  
  
Ick. He expected her to carry that hunk of junk? She stepped forward and awkwardly picked it up. It wasn't that heavy, especially with her Slayer strength, but it was BIG!  
  
She couldn't see around it.  
  
"Marie, help Buffy with that, will you?"  
  
Buffy felt, rather than saw, the other girl grasp the other side and begin directing her to the stairs. With Marie at the lead, they managed to ever so carefully maneuver the sculpture up the steps. By the time they reached the top, Buffy was ready to slay Anya for wanting this.  
  
"Do you know what the hell this is?" she huffed as they reached the top step.  
  
Marie shrugged, answering, "Some modern art rendition of an earth mother figurine, according to Anya."  
  
Struggling, the two lugged the sculpture into the main part of the shop. As they set it down, one of the sharper angles snagged on Marie's shirt. It ripped, and blood welled in the resulting cut.  
  
"You okay?" Buffy asked, seeing the gash under the torn cloth. She walked towards Marie. "You want me to get the first aid kit?"  
  
Marie looked down at her shoulder. The cut was shallow, but it still stung. She gingerly touched the now bare patch of skin. "I'm good. It's just a scrape."  
  
Buffy ignored her, reaching out to examine the injury. Marie jerked back, aware at how exposed she was. "Really, there's no need to - "  
  
"Chill. I know what I'm doing. Just let me look at it." Buffy took hold of Marie's arm and pushed the cloth away, disregarding her protestations. "You'll need to put some Neosporin on it - "  
  
Her hand connected with Marie's skin. Involuntarily, her hand clenched and her grip tightened. The skin on Buffy's hand crackled, growing taut and dry. Her breath came in quick, short gasps and her eyes stared ahead, unfocused.  
  
Tears filled Marie's own eyes. She had only a moment to mourn before -  
  
Flash! Playing with her doll, seeing her baby sister for the first time. Flash! Who was that strange old guy? "Come with me, your destiny awaits." No, really, she was destiny free! Flash! First love, wonderful and awful all together at once. New friends. Fighting, killing, slaying. Death, dying, gone and back. Flash! Loss. Run the sword through his body, it's the only way. Pain, suffering, run!  
  
Marie pulled free, Buffy's form falling to the ground, unconscious. But the images kept coming.  
  
Flash! Dark sisterkind, betrayal, survival, left again. Flash! Healing heart, try again. Fail. Try once more. Fail. Flash! Sister not all that she seems. Too much, too much. Gods and demons and cancer.  
  
Overwhelmed, she ran. Pushed past concerned friends, past shining green light, out the door, into the street. Constant babble, it shouts to her. Tough. Strong. She will survive, like that time she got all those mind reading skills and almost went crazy. No, that wasn't her. Yes it was.  
  
Where to go? Go to work, slay them. Where's my stake? I forgot my stake! I should go back to the Magic Box, get some stakes. NO! We can't go back. Hunt. Slay. That is who we are.  
  
***  
  
Marie was out the door before the Scoobies could properly react. All they'd seen was Marie cutting herself, Buffy trying to help, then BAM! Buffy fainting and Marie running like the hounds of Hades were after her.  
  
Willow ran over to Buffy and knelt to check her friend's pulse. "Dawn, get Giles. Guys, help me move Buffy."  
  
Xander nodded at the door. "Should we go after her?"  
  
"As fast as she was running?" Willow shook her head, no. "We can start looking after we make sure Buffy's okay."  
  
"I think I speak for all of us when I say, what was that?"  
  
"Marie's aura went wonky like before," Tara volunteered, as she balled up a coat to make a pillow. "But I don't know why or how."  
  
Giles entered the scene. "What happened? Dawn said something about Marie going crazy and Buffy fainting."  
  
"Tara thinks that Marie did something to Buffy. Something about auras," Willow informed him. "But Marie took off before we could talk to her. But Buffy's okay. I think she's just unconscious."  
  
For once it isn't me, Giles thought. "Try to make her as comfortable as possible. Xander, you and I will go look for Marie."  
  
***  
  
Spike lounged on his couch, watching a bad horror movie. It was an insult to every creature that walked the night, but was the only thing on. He made a face as the movie monster attempted to menace the beautiful girl. He wondered why the girl bothered screaming; the scene was positively laughable.  
  
As he continued watching the pathetic excuse for a movie, he overheard a bit of a commotion going on outside his crypt. Pair of vamps setting their sights on some tasty bit, from the sound of it. Spike turned the TV off. Dusting such loudmouths was far more entertaining.  
  
The loudmouths were circling a slip of a girl who looked vaguely familiar. She reminded him of the mouse he'd met at Willy's. Marie, was it? But her stance and body language was oddly reminiscent of the Slayer.  
  
"C'mere girl, I'm hungry," said Loudmouth #1. Loudmouth #2 nodded and added, "Stand still, it won't hurt a bit."  
  
Marie just gripped her stake tighter, shifting her balance ever so slightly. Loudmouth #1 rushed her. With a practiced motion, she twisted, impaling the vampire on the stake. He turned to dust.  
  
Wait a second. Last he saw her, she had the fighting skills of the whelp. Now she was using Slayer moves?  
  
Loudmouth #2 was a little nervous now. His friend had been dusted just like that. He attacked with a little more finesse, dodging the incoming stake and knocking her to the ground.  
  
Marie struggled, relying on memories of previous escapes. But those required the full strength of the Slayer. Unaware of this lack, she sought to free herself.  
  
Spike was seriously confused. He'd fought Buffy enough times to know her style. The girl was dead on. And about to be dead.  
  
Moving quickly, he pulled the vamp off her. The following tussle was an insult to the species, in his opinion. Before the dust settled, he turned back to Marie.  
  
And was greeted by a punch in the nose. Wasn't like the Slayer's, but still stung a bit.  
  
"What the hell was that for? I saved you!"  
  
"I was FINE! I don't need your help, Spike."  
  
"Didn't look fine, mouse. Looked like you were about to become a snack."  
  
"Mouse? That's a new one. What happened to Slayer?"  
  
Huh?  
  
"You're not the Slayer," Spike said slowly, "you're Marie. Slayer's a little blonde bitch, not a dark wanna-be Goth."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Who do you think you are?"  
  
Marie rolled her eyes, duh, "I'm Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. The one who's kicked your ass for the past four years."  
  
And he thought Dru had been nuts. "No, you're not."  
  
"Care to let me in on the joke, Spike? I think I know who I am."  
  
"Check the hair." Marie reached back and pulled a strand forward, her attitude clearly stating 'I'm humoring the crazy guy'. She stared at the dark brown, nothing like her own blonde tresses. This wasn't her body. Or was it?  
  
She suddenly felt very dizzy. What was going on? Must be a spell. No. That's not it. Curses and thieves, that was the truth. Tried to rest, couldn't do that, always betray, always hurt them, evil thing demon succubus monster, that is you, yes it is. Time to run. You can't stay, traitor girl, remember? They try to help you, yes they did, reach and touch, offer aid to the thief. RUN!  
  
She tried to run, to move. All she could was stagger and fall. Maelstrom in her mind. It spun and whirled, as each and every piece of the puzzle shouted out to her, asking for control. But there were too many. Spinning, twisting, jerking about, too much too much.  
  
"BLOODY HELL!"  
  
Marie vomited over Spike's shoes, her body reacting to violently to the stress. She choked and sobbed, as fragments of events came back to her. Every time, this happened. She would relax and let herself rest, only to be destroyed once again.  
  
Spike stared at the sobbing girl, carefully stepping away from the puke zone. It was official. Marie was cracked. First she acts like she's the Slayer, he points out she's not, and then she goes into a fit to rival Drusilla. And now his shoes were dirty. And gross.  
  
"C'mon, mouse, get up."  
  
She didn't answer, only whimpering, "Demons evil bad bad thief demons bad - "  
  
He ignored her and grabbed an arm, hauling her to her feet. "Don't know why I bother," he muttered, "crazy girl isn't my problem, and she ruined my shoes."  
  
"Let go, let go, don't touch me!"  
  
"I'm not trying to hurt you!"  
  
Marie didn't hear him and continued to pull away. He let go and she collapsed to the ground again. Thankfully, she didn't throw up this time.  
  
"What is going on with you? Marie?" The hunched over form stopped its weeping and looked up. Spike tried again, "Marie?"  
  
Dark hollow eyes met his and whispered, "It always goes wrong. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."  
  
"What went wrong?"  
  
Ignoring the question, she responded, "Do I know you?"  
  
"Yes," Spike answered cautiously, calling on every inch of patience gained from a century with Drusilla.  
  
"But do I know you?"  
  
"We met at the bar," he said slowly, "you pushed a demon into me and I killed it."  
  
"Okay. But she knows you, too."  
  
"Who does?"  
  
"The new one. Her name is - "  
  
"Spike!" Xander's voice broke through. "Hey, Dead Boy, have you seen," he jogged onto the scene, noticing the first time the huddled girl, "Marie?"  
  
Upon hearing him, Marie surged to her feet. "I'm sorry, don't be angry, I didn't mean to do it," she babbled before turning to run.  
  
"Slow down! We're not angry. Buffy's fine. We just want to know what happened."  
  
"Something happened to Buffy?" Spike snapped about, focusing on the new arrival, "Is she okay?"  
  
Xander pretended not to hear him. Instead, he concentrated on the still backing away Marie, "Listen, we know that you've got some funky problem going. We just want to help."  
  
Marie stopped her retreat. Every other time she used her power?curse? people would go after her. If they were generous, they kicked her out. If they weren't, she had to flee for her life. She had expected this to be no different. Especially from these demon hunters.  
  
"You don't hate me?" she whispered.  
  
"We don't even know what you did. And it looks like you don't really know, either. What's to hate?"  
  
"I hurt your friend."  
  
"Will she wake up?"  
  
Marie nodded.  
  
"No harm, no foul, then."  
  
Was this for real? She listened to the echoes of Buffy in her mind. It was. Marie straightened her shoulders and looked Xander in the eye.  
  
"I don't know how or why, but whenever someone's skin touches mine, I absorb a piece of their mind."  
  
There. Would they forgive her now? 


	5. Maybe

Thanks for your reviews: A Watcher, Chelle86 and Kristy Marie  
  
Note: A heads up on the plot. When I came up with this, I wanted to write a story how scared Marie changes into super confident Rogue ( a la the comic books). So yeah. That's what this is really about. And to BadBoyLover - Marie and Spike will definitely have a strong bonding/friendship thing going, but no pairing. Closer to Rogue's (and Jubilee and Kitty) relationship with Wolverine.  
  
So there you have it. Here's the chapter.  
  
Chapter Five  
  
Marie's dark, hollow eyes stared at her two companions. Xander and Spike were side by side, mouths agape at her revelation. No one spoke for a long while.  
  
Marie ducked her head, trying to control the flood of tears that threatened to spill. Of course they wouldn't jump to reassure her. She was a monster, right? She could destroy with a single touch. They had no reason to trust her.  
  
"I'll go," she choked out, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."  
  
Hearing no answer, Marie took off, running blindly. Her only thought was how stupid and foolish she had been to relax, to admit to her weakness, to forget that her lone course of action was to run.  
  
As Marie retreated, Xander finally shook himself from the shock her revelation had caused.  
  
"Wait! We can help you! Just hold on a second!"  
  
He ran after her, shouting that and similar phrases. Spike watched the two go. For a split second, he considered ignoring the lot of them and going back to his crypt. But his innate curiosity won out. With the inherent speed of a vampire, within moments he had caught up with Marie.  
  
"Slow down, mouse. What's the rush?"  
  
Marie ignored him and kept running. Spike easily matched her speed, asking, "C'mon, can't leave us hanging with a revelation like that. What's your deal?"  
  
She skidded to a halt, a flicker of memory telling her that once Spike started a conversation, he kept at it until he was satisfied with the answers.  
  
"I hurt people."  
  
"So do I. Well, if I could I would."  
  
She looked away. "It's different."  
  
"Always is."  
  
"Is it? Can you hear them in your head? Screaming and shouting and hating you? Trying to rip whatever shred of sanity left into pieces?" Marie met his eyes, her own filled with turmoil and anguish. "I know you've killed. SHE knows. Torture and blood and death. But every time I do what I do, it's like I AM them. I feel what they feel, think what they think, hate what they hate. And do you know what they all hate? ME. That I'm some evil monster for doing to them whatever the hell it is I do."  
  
"You're not evil."  
  
"I'm not? Every time, I take a piece of someone's soul. Their very life force or whatever you call it. I steal it. How can that be not evil?"  
  
Spike couldn't help but laugh. "Mouse, evil things don't care. They don't cry and they don't wail about the horrors of their crimes. I should know. I'm one of them, remember?"  
  
Maybe Spike was right. Maybe she wasn't evil. Marie tried out that thought, one she hadn't believed for a long time. I am not evil. Evil enjoys itself; evil feeds off pain and suffering, Buffy whispered in her mind.  
  
"Speaking of the Slayer, you can't tell me she's hating you over this. She'll forgive a human of the worst crimes. It's part of her whole 'hero' package."  
  
"She's not hating me, right now. But I don't know if I'm even human," Marie said quietly. "Last I checked, this wasn't standard issue."  
  
"Doesn't have to be standard to fit, does it? Though I can't see what the big deal about humanity is," Spike said with a wink, "seein' how I'm not."  
  
"Right." Marie managed a weak smile. Somehow an evil bloodthirsty vampire telling you that you are not evil was strangely comforting.  
  
"Hey, Marie," Xander wheezed, finally catching up. Man, he needed to get in shape. "You're looking better. Ready to talk?"  
  
Marie nodded. Xander smiled, "Good. Listen, I can't say I understand what the hell this is about, but I can promise this. You come back with us and the Scooby research team will figure out whatever you've got going. We can help, if you let us."  
  
Marie paused before answering. Out of the corner of her eye, she say Spike give her a look, saying, "You gonna risk it?"  
  
"Help me."  
  
***  
  
Marie cautiously entered the Magic Box. This was the very first time since that long ago kiss with Cody that she confronted a victim and the victim's family. She braced herself for the fear and hate. No matter Xander and Spike told her, part of her still whispered dire things.  
  
They were all sitting at the round table in the back of the shop. No one gave her spiteful looks or hissed curses. Even Buffy, recovered from her encounter with Marie, watched her with only an expression of curiosity and concern.  
  
Xander filed in behind Marie, silently heading towards the table. He sensed that this was something that needed no funny remarks or humor. Sliding into a chair, he gave Anya a smile and a quick hug. She smiled back and returned her attention to Marie.  
  
Marie swallowed. Maybe they wouldn't start yelling until after she announced what she was. They were probably just waiting for an opening. For a moment, Marie wished Spike had followed her here. After their impromptu heart to heart, he'd taken off for his crypt, without an explanation. Probably felt threatened by recent sensitive behavior unbecoming of a vampire.  
  
Someone coughed.  
  
Drawing on her sparse reserves of courage, Marie began to speak.  
  
"I'm sorry about what happened earlier with Buffy. But it's not something I have control over. For some reason, whenever I have physical, skin to skin contact with a person I can absorb a part of them. It's hard to describe. I freaked because it is almost like a piece of that person's mind goes into me, and I feel like that person until it wears off. Xander says you can help figure out what I am and why I do that. Maybe even stop it.  
  
Please, don't hate me. I didn't mean to hurt anyone."  
  
Silence reigned for a moment.  
  
"Told you so!" Tara crowed. Everyone stared at her. Tara does NOT crow. The Wiccan blushed. "Well, I did. I knew it was a personality/aura issue." To Marie, she added, "When you do whatever that is, your aura goes through the changes of someone being affected by personality alterers."  
  
"Oh. Okay."  
  
"Skin to skin contact only? When did you first experience this?" Giles asked, inner scholar awakened. "It doesn't sound particularly familiar. You might possess an overactive form of touch telepathy, but I've never heard of such an extreme case."  
  
"Does this mean part of me is floating around inside your head? Exactly how much of me is in there now?" Buffy wanted to know.  
  
Marie answered Buffy first. She had the right to know. "It is almost like I have your memories. Sometimes the feelings that go with them. It usually won't be very loud, but I'll be reminded of something, it will be your memories doing the reminding. Later, anyway. At the moment," she said awkwardly, "it's a sort of 100% transfer."  
  
Buffy's expression turned wary. "Really?"  
  
Looking her straight in the eye, Marie said softly, "Don't worry. When it's like that, a lot of what you feel, I feel. And I know better than to shout it all out to the world."  
  
Mollified, Buffy relaxed. The message was understood. Dawn's nature would remain secret, if Marie had anything to say about it.  
  
This exchange over, the rest of the Scoobies jumped in with their questions. Marie found herself in the wholly enjoyable position of being helped. They didn't pry, they only sought to determine exactly who she was.  
  
Xander and Anya left part way through the interview, leaving the witches, Buffy, and Giles.  
  
An hour after Marie's return, Giles studied his notes. Her patience in answering questions was quite admirable, especially given how awkward it must have been for her. Marie's desire for answers was so poignant. Given the chance, she poured out everything.  
  
There was much to tell.  
  
From her first kiss with Cody at fifteen to the incident with Buffy, Marie had described her life. How she had run away when her home town when their distrust and fear grew too much. How she had been running since then, barely hanging on to her essential self, constantly bombarded by the thoughts and feelings of those she touched. How she had come to this town on a whim, and how she hoped that this time she could stop running.  
  
Giles took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He wished for the ability to give Marie all that she needed - control and peace of mind. But he doubted the first and could only offer a semblance of the latter. Meditation and studies on mental control could help the aftereffects of her abilities, but until he understood their precise nature, Marie would continue to live with her burden.  
  
With any luck, some research would reveal enough answers to give her hope.  
  
***  
  
The girl in question sat in her chair silently, drained from the outpouring of emotion and memories. Marie had never expected this day to come, where she could speak honestly and openly about herself.  
  
Even Buffy was being nice to her. The very one Marie had inadvertently violated. Instead of being angry, the Slayer was empathetic and acted as if their respective abilities formed a bond between them. Girls of the Not Normal must stick together. Marie's borrowed memories told her Buffy had been Called at fifteen, the same age Marie's powers had emerged at.  
  
Marie envied Buffy's Calling. That your strange abilities were for a higher purpose sounded comforting to someone who had until recently believed herself to be innately evil.  
  
Maybe with the Scoobies' help she could learn to use her powers for good. To help and not hurt. Maybe she could learn to be at peace with the voices in her head. Maybe she could finally and truly rest and stop running.  
  
"I think we've done all we can for now," Giles announced. "Feel free to return home. And Marie, hopefully I can give you some answers soon. Possibly even by tomorrow - some of your descriptions are familiar to me. Good night."  
  
"Ready to go?" Buffy asked. Marie nodded. "Good. Let's head on home. Mom'll be wanting to know what happened; who knows what Dawn told her."  
  
Marie followed Buffy out the door. 


	6. Echoes

Thanks for the reviews: A Watcher, Chelle86,wllw979, cpg, Ann of Midnight, Phoenix Lumen, eth, and lil badass.  
  
Thanks to cpg for pointing out the little mistake with chapter order. And thanks to Chelle86 for giving me a good kick to start this again.  
  
And remember, the best gift for a writer is reviews ^_^.  
  
Chapter Six  
  
"Are you okay?" Joyce asked worriedly as Buffy and Marie entered the house. Dawn had come home with a garbled story of Marie attacking Buffy then running away. She examined the two girls carefully. They looked fine, albeit a little tired. "What happened?"  
  
Buffy looked over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow in query to Marie, silently asking, 'Do you want me to say it, or you?'. Marie's eyes widened in that frightened, vulnerable look that Buffy was coming to identify as quintessential Marie. Buffy decided it would be kinder to do the talking instead of the younger girl.  
  
"Turns out Marie's got a few surprises in her," Buffy told her mother, trying to sound as upbeat as possible. "I got a little too close to one of them."  
  
"What sort of surprises?"  
  
Marie spoke up. A big part of her wanted to hide behind Buffy and let her explain, but her innate sense of honor told her she owed this generous woman the truth from her own mouth. "I have some sort of power. I don't know what it is or what it's called, but I can some how take in a person's life force, for lack of a better word, when I come into direct contact with their skin." Marie's expression grew pleading. "I did it to Buffy, but it was only an accident. I didn't mean to hurt her!"  
  
Joyce smiled gently. "Of course you didn't." To her eldest, she asked, "Everything okay now?"  
  
"Yup. I was only out of it for a bit. I think Marie's more shaken up than I am."  
  
Marie was somewhat puzzled on why that was true. Buffy was the one who had had part of her essential being sucked out, yet seemed barely fazed while she was the one on edge. Of course, lingering bits of Buffy told her that this sort of thing was par to course for a Tuesday night in Sunnydale.  
  
On the couch, Dawn watched the exchange. Her only remark was, "You have super-powers? Cool. See, Buffy? You can't pull that I'm-the-only- one whine anymore."  
  
"Dawn!" Joyce admonished automatically. In the more conscious part of her mind, she recognized that Marie's revelation revealed exactly why she was the way she was. It explained the clothes, the fear, the running away. Poor girl. No wonder she was troubled. Joyce decided to have a good talk with Marie in private at the first opportunity.  
  
"If everyone's okay, then I think it's time for some people to got to bed," she announced.  
  
Dawn frowned. That meant she went upstairs while everyone else stayed behind and talked about things not suitable for precious Dawn-ears. She momentarily considered arguing, but decided tonight was not the night. She could always sneak back down and sit on the stairs.  
  
"I think that's my cue. G'night, guys."  
  
Dawn left, leaving Joyce, Buffy, and Marie behind. With the youngest Summers out of earshot, Buffy quietly asked the question which had been burning in her mind all night.  
  
"Why didn't you tell us, Marie?"  
  
Marie was silent for a moment. Then, she whispered, "I was so scared."  
  
Buffy was silent in return to that answer. She remembered being there herself, suddenly full of this strange new ability, being introduced to a frighteningly real world. She had been so scared she had not admitted the truth to her mother until she was forced to. Then she had run away from home.  
  
Marie continued speaking. The floodgates on her words had been opened, and they poured out for the first time. "Every time I've tried to rest I've ended up hurting people, good people, then I have to run again because they are so angry at me and I thought I could rest here but I heard you were the Slayer and killed evil things and I thought what I was had to be evil, that it couldn't be good." She repeated her first words. "I was so scared."  
  
Joyce had no words for this. Instead, she lay a hand on Marie's arm and gently guided her to the kitchen. "Let's talk about this over some hot chocolate."  
  
As she bustled about preparing the drink, Buffy looked Marie in the eye and told her, "You're right when you say I kill evil things. But Marie, you aren't. You're like light-years away."  
  
"I'm not so sure about the last part." Marie's lips quirked up bitterly. "I've only recently figured out that I'm not evil. Don't know if I'm good yet, but I don't think I'm evil."  
  
Joyce sat down at the table, cups of cocoa in hand. "Here you go, Marie."  
  
For a moment, silence filled the room. The three women sipped their drinks and added little marshmallows and cream. Then, unbidden, Marie began to talk. Sometimes she spoke of pointless nothings. Other times she spoke of deep pains. Joyce simply nodded and made the right remarks; Buffy did much the same. All Marie needed was someone to listen and to care.  
  
***  
  
Marie curled up on her couch bed. Buffy had offered to give up her room for the night, but Marie had refused. It would have felt far too familiar to sleep there. Even now, in the dark, echoes of Buffy reverberated throughout her mind. Being in her bedroom would only make them louder.  
  
Marie shifted on the cushions, tossing with the multitude of emotions that roiled and boiled in her mind. Relief at her secret being out. Uncertainty about where this would lead. Fear that this will all turn to ashes, like so many other tries had. An overwhelming sense of gratitude for the people here, in this cursed town of Sunnydale, who had given her a chance.  
  
***  
  
Marie walks through tunnels, dark and dank. Water drips and the smell is overwhelming. She follows a young boy, knowing that he leads her to her doom.  
  
The tunnels open into a cave. A monster stands there. His mouth is stained with blood, his hands are clawed, and he is bigger and stronger than she is. She mocks him to hide her fear. He returns the jibe. They fight. Marie tries so hard to strike, to wound, to cause even the most minute damage. She fails.  
  
A hand encompasses her throat, squeezing. Her hands fly up to pry them away. She fails. Fangs into her neck, life drawn away, yet she cannot fight. Darkness overwhelms her. She fails. Her body collapses into water.  
  
Her heart slows. She cannot breathe. She is dying. Marie weeps inside. She is sixteen years old and is dying. So many things she will never do. Marie wants to scream, to struggle, to fight! But all she can do is succumb to the encroaching darkness, the pull of nonexistence.  
  
Marie dies.  
  
Marie jerks herself awake. She takes huge gasps of air, almost hyperventilating. The dream had been so real. She had died in it. She had felt her heart stop, her breath stop, her life stop.  
  
Her hands clutch at the air, still in the midst of the dream battle. As she comes down, Marie realizes she's on her side on the ground. It hurts. She must have fallen off the couch in the course of her sleep.  
  
Probably from when the Master had dropped her dying body into the pool of water. The experts are right. Drowning is a horrible way to die.  
  
Marie curled up into the fetal position. Intellectually, she understood the dream was only a nightmare, only a distant memory of the woman who slept upstairs. It wasn't hers. But in the dark early hours of the morning, that does not matter.  
  
What matters is that she died. She faced her own mortality. And Marie, unlike Buffy, has not yet lived the intervening years to deal with that.  
  
This wasn't the first time she had dreamed the dreams of others, the dreams of all the voices in her mind. But this was the most vivid, the most real. This dream was the most terrifying.  
  
Marie rocked gently on the floor, as she tried to fall asleep. As her eyes closed, all she could feel was the cool shock of water and the sudden gasp for air left unanswered. 


	7. Falling Hopes

Thanks for the reviews: Chelle86, destiny-ruler, Silver Warrior, Kristy Marie, Marz1, Celesta Evenstar, and WW.  
  
Note the First: A million and one thanks to new beta Chelle86. *waves hi*  
  
Note: I know some of you are probably wondering if the X-men proper will show up in this story; a few have even asked outright. If you were really hoping for that, sorry. The plot I've worked out doesn't allow for the X- men to swing by Sunnydale without being very, very gratuitous. But they will get several honorable mentions - our mutant heroes will not be forgotten.  
  
That out of the way, I continue this story.  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
Marie woke up the next morning, back stiff from lying on the floor and more than a little bruised from her fall. Her body felt drained, as if she had not slept. Marie blamed it on the floor, not wanting to confront the nightmares. Her hands clenched involuntarily, as she remembered that terrifying instant when the water had closed around her ...  
  
"Why are you on the floor?"  
  
Marie jerked around to see Joyce standing in the doorway, a concerned expression on her face. "Did you fall? I knew that couch was too narrow for you to sleep on."  
  
Marie stood quickly and faced the older woman. "I just woke up and misjudged the distance to the floor, that's all."  
  
"Are you okay?" Joyce asked, noting the dark circles under Marie's eyes and the stiffness as she walked.  
  
"I'm fine, Mo - Mrs. Summers." Marie winced, realizing how she had just addressed her hostess. She hadn't been in close contact with a victim's family since Cody; hadn't had to face that instinctive desire to *know* them. It gave her a strange feeling of duality - the Buffy echo saw her mother; Marie saw her hostess. She didn't like it. It was mildly disturbing.  
  
Joyce examined her a moment, then decided not to press. The poor thing probably had had a stressful enough time already. There was no real reason yet to ask for more than Marie was willing to give.  
  
"Okay then. Would you like some breakfast? How about a nice omelet? My girls always tell me I make the best," she offered.  
  
Marie smiled timidly. "I don't want you to go out of your way..."  
  
"I was already fixing some for Dawn and me. Bacon and cheese."  
  
"In that case, thank you."  
  
"While I do that, why don't you run up and get yourself ready for the day?" Joyce winked conspiratorially. "We've got that tiny window between Dawn and Buffy going right now; seize the moment while you can."  
  
"Sounds like a good idea. I won't take very long." Marie gave a nod then hurried upstairs. Joyce waited for her to go before proceeding to the kitchen, where she and Dawn were going to have omelets, too, whether Dawn liked it or not.  
  
Later that morning, Joyce watched Buffy (who had only gotten up after serious prodding, then proceeded to take an hour long shower before finally declaring herself ready) and Marie head out to the Magic Box to see if Giles had found out anything more about Marie's condition.  
  
Though Marie had never struck her as an outgoing individual, Joyce felt that she had been even more subdued this morning. In the few weeks she had known her, Marie had grown slightly more confident, occasionally making demands and doing things like using the last cup of milk instead of letting Dawn have it. But today she had acted more like pre-Summers house Marie by not fighting with Dawn over the last bit of butter in the tub (Though Marie had muttered something like, "But Dawn always gets it!" before hastily pushing the tub over and eating her toast dry).  
  
But that hadn't worried Joyce as much as the strange trance Marie had gone in while washing the dishes in the sink, as she stood there mesmerized by the running water. Joyce knew that Marie's powers had a very personal effect on her; she could only hope that Giles would be able to give the girl some form of relief.  
  
***  
  
Marie followed Buffy into the Magic Box, her dark, lank hair (still wet from a five-minute shower) obscuring her face. Inside the shop, Anya was already standing behind the counter, eagerly waiting for potential customers to pounce on. She let out a cry of disappointment upon seeing the decidedly anti-capitalist (meaning, they weren't here to buy) Buffy and Marie enter the shop.  
  
"Giles, they're he-re! You can stop pacing back there!" Anya shouted in the general direction of the shop's back. To Buffy and Marie, she said, "Please move to the back of the shop so real customers can browse." After thinking a moment, she added, "Actually, please feel free to browse. Shoppers will see you through the windows and feel inclined to join you, and possibly make purchases."  
  
Giles, coming from his back room office, heard Anya's last remark. "Anya, do you ever think of anything besides earning money?" Anya opened her mouth to reply. Realizing the likely answer, Giles held up a hand forestalling further talk, "Please consider that question rhetorical."  
  
Anya closed her mouth. Then put on her very large and insincere 'customer' smile as a middle aged woman wandered into the shop.  
  
Relieved that Anya was now distracted, Giles waved Buffy and Marie over. "I'm pleased to say I've found some information that I believe will help Marie out a bit. Buffy, would you mind - ?"  
  
Buffy nodded, understanding Giles' drift. "I think I feel a punching bag session coming on. Don't let him bore you too much, Marie!" Buffy waved over her shoulder as she headed to the training room.  
  
With Buffy gone, Giles turned to Marie and gestured for her to follow him into his office. "After studying the data you provided, I was able to come up with a few theories as to where your powers come from, and also some possibilities that might lead to controlling them."  
  
Marie perked up at the last part. Control over her powers was something she longed for with every inch of her being. She eagerly sat down in the beat up old chair across from his desk, noting the books and papers scattered over it. Did the answers she sought lie in them?  
  
After similarly situating himself, Giles began to speak.  
  
"At first I thought that you may be suffering from a long-term aftereffect of some sort of spell, perhaps one cast on you without your knowledge. Willow and Tara assured me that was not the case. There is also the possibility that your abilities stem from a distant demonic heritage."  
  
He noticed Marie's sudden look of fear at that. Giles moved quickly to reassure her.  
  
"If that is true, you shouldn't worry about it. A rather large percent of the population has some demonic ancestry; interbreeding happens. Occasionally a trait will resurface after a couple of generations.  
  
However, there is a third, and I believe more likely, answer. Marie, have you ever considered the possibility you are what in current terms is called a mutant?"  
  
Marie shrugged. "Sometimes, I guess. Mutants have powers like me, right? Only, the ones in the papers, their powers never hurt them too. Just other people. Not to mention, everyone says mutants are bad news. Some call them demons, others say they are monsters that are going to supplant humanity. Not exactly a group I wanted to mark myself a member of, you know?"  
  
Giles listened to her, then said, "First of all, I want to assure you that mutants are not demons. Secondly, mutants are not new. Only the term is. While their numbers have been on the rise in recent years, there have been children born with unusual abilities for a long, long time."  
  
"Like Buffy?"  
  
"No. Buffy is the Slayer; she is Chosen. Her powers were granted to her when she was fifteen from a distinctly mystical source. Mutants' abilities are completely innate, and primarily non-mystical. The Watcher's Council has records of natural telepaths, seers, and pyrokinetics going back at least a thousand years, if not more."  
  
"Why do you think I'm a mutant?"  
  
Giles took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.  
  
"A variety of reasons. First of all because of the fact you discovered your power at the age of fifteen, the height of puberty. According to my information, that's when most mutants' powers emerge. Based on that and other information, I believe I can quite confidently say you are a mutant."  
  
Marie sat in her chair quietly, adjusting to this new piece of information. I am a mutant, she thought, I am a member of the so-called homo superior. I belong to the same group that makes headlines and is a serious, riot causing issue. At least I know I'm not alone in this.  
  
She opened her mouth to ask a question. Hesitantly, she said, "Thank you for telling me exactly where I am in the scheme of things. But, but you said something about teaching me control?"  
  
"Yes, but before I go into that, there is a simple test I want to try, to determine the extent of your powers."  
  
Marie stared at him suspiciously. "What kind of test?"  
  
"Nothing painful. Merely a spell of seeing," he assured her before picking up several items from a box beside his desk. "You'll have to take off your gloves for this, though."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Well," Giles handed her an orb, just this side of too big to fit in the palm of her hand, "this has to have direct contact with you to work. The spell works like this - I hold the partner orb in my hand while you focus on your abilities while holding yours. The orbs will analyze the information and give it to me to interpret."  
  
Marie gingerly took the orb from him, being careful not to drop it. It was cool to the touch and chilled her fingers slightly. "What are these?"  
  
"A matched set of Analian orbs, attuned for the specific purpose of determining psychic abilities in a person. We sell a less exact version out in the shop; they're popular among dabblers in magic. Now hold it just like that. Focus your mind on your power. On what happens when you use it," Giles instructed.  
  
Marie closed her eyes and brought to mind everything she associated with her cursed gift, hoping this strange magic would show her what she needed to do.  
  
On the receiving end, Giles jerked a little from a momentary battery of images and sensations. It subsided within seconds as the magic kicked in and began to sift through the data, sending only pieces deemed important, cleaned of any emotional taint. Something for which Giles was thankful, as he saw what Marie could do.  
  
At first, there were images of her victims. All of them reacted in the same way to her powers, skin growing tight, breath coming fast, and eyes staring blankly. Next he saw her erratic behavior following each incident, watching from her eyes as she frantically groped for understanding. Giles was concerned to note that the longer she had had her powers, the longer it took for the absorbed person to fade. Finally, he sensed her attempts to control herself. He saw long nights trying to feel this power, and turn it off, only to never find the right switch.  
  
Abruptly, Giles returned to the present. Across his desk, he watched Marie wake up from a similar trance. She looked at him a little embarrassed, yet still expectant. She wanted answers.  
  
Giles didn't want to give the ones he thought he had found. As disturbing as he found it, that her power literally sucked the life out of a person she already knew. But he did not want to tell her that he believed that her powers were only going to increase. That he doubted she would ever find the off switch.  
  
Marie studied Giles' expression intently, her little Buffy voice saying he had his but face on. Whatever news he had was not likely to be good. Marie slumped a little in her chair.  
  
Giles carefully set his orb back into its box before confronting Marie. "The Analian orbs were most helpful," he began.  
  
"What did you learn?"  
  
Giles began to clean his glasses. Marie grew even more worried. "Mind you, I am not an expert in interpreting the information these things give. The orbs are only a conduit, showing what the magic they contain and the user believes to be important."  
  
"If it's bad, I can deal. I've never had a chance to know where I stand until now," urged Marie.  
  
"The only form of help I can suggest is meditation and other types of mental control," Giles said bluntly, already regretting the harshness of his words. "I do not believe you will ever be able to physically control your abilities."  
  
Marie sat in silence, head bowed. She hadn't really gotten her hopes up, she told herself, ignoring the tears gathering in her eyes. All those nights of trying should have told her it was a lost cause. She stood to leave.  
  
"Thank you for your time, Mr. Giles. I appreciate the effort you made on my behalf." Marie started to hand him back his precious orb (don't be bitter, Marie, at least he tried). Giles reached out to take it back, then quickly drew his hand away and asked her to put it back in the box. Marie stared down at her bared hands, obeyed him, then slipped her gloves back on. She was going to spend the rest of her life with that little barrier between her and the rest of the world.  
  
"If you don't mind, Mr. Giles, I think I'll wait outside your shop for Buffy to finish her session."  
  
"Are you sure, Marie? We could start studying meditation today - "  
  
"That's all right, sir. Thank you for offering." Back stiff and formal, Marie turned to leave.  
  
"If it's worth anything, I may be wrong."  
  
"I know you're not," Marie said over her shoulder, "and that's the worst thing of all." 


	8. Trying to Explain

Note: Thank you to everyone who has read this story. And to wllw979, as nice as it would be to fix Marie, there wouldn't be much of a story if I did that. I guess I know why Joss is always so evil to his characters now.

* * *

Marie stood outside Giles' office a moment, collecting herself. She ignored the burn of unshed tears, shunting away the emotion. She had been a fool to get her hopes up; she should have known better. Be she mutant or monster, she was stuck that way. Marie swallowed, a lump sticking in her throat. At least she wasn't a demon or anything. That had to mean something, right? With effort, she straightened her shoulders and tried to hold her head high. Then slumped again, Giles' words echoing in her head, "I do not believe you will ever be able to physically control your abilities."  
  
Sometimes, life just sucked.  
  
Over by the register, Buffy and Anya were talking. Buffy looked up and saw Marie standing, looking as if her birthday puppy had run off. Letting Anya babble on, she asked, "Hey Marie, you okay? Giles didn't drive you too crazy with Watcher-speak, did he?"  
  
Hearing her name, Marie looked up and wet her lips to speak. Part of her wanted to run over and start sobbing. Another whispered, you can't cry, they need you to be strong. Marie knew that was the Buffy voice talking, but she clung to the denial of emotion it promised. "I'm fine," she finally answered, surprised at how steady her voice sounded. A thought crossed her mind. "Though I think I'm gonna go a few rounds with the punching bag out back before we leave."  
  
Buffy nodded. There was more going on than Marie was saying, as always was the case, but she'd wait to pry. "I left it in one piece. Feel free to give it a whirl."  
  
A few minutes later, Marie fell into the comforting monotony of striking the bag, the blows echoing throughout the room. As her fists flew, memories of past times where she had dealt with depression the same way came to her. The image of a padded dummy, not a punching bag. Hitting it harder and harder, thinking about the pale-faced monster. His teeth sinking into her neck, draining her of life.  
  
Marie's pace quickened.  
  
Falling, falling into cold water, unable to fight.  
  
She continued, unaware that bruises were forming on hands unused to the strain.  
  
Cold water all around, unable to breathe, dark coming close. Dark. Darker. Darkest!  
  
Marie drew back and struck hard, letting out the anger and frustration. Frustration for the memories that weren't hers, for the darkness, for the knowledge it would always be this way......  
  
"OW!" Marie doubled over, nursing her fist. "Ow ow ow." Her face twisted as her body finally caught up with her brain, loudly exclaiming that she really, really shouldn't go hitting tender, unprotected flesh against hard objects. "OW."  
  
Buffy entered the room, drawn by the cries of pain. "Marie? You okay?"  
  
Marie looked up, a weak smile on her face. "Uh-huh. Just a little bruised." She forced her hand to uncurl. "No serious damage done."  
  
Buffy's eyes flicked down to examine the gloved hand Marie had extended so awkwardly. She had a strong feeling that if the fabric were to disappear, she could see bruises forming. "Want some ice?"  
  
"Yes. Where's the fridge?" Marie moved to get the aforementioned ice herself. Buffy rested a hand gently on her shoulder, noting Marie's automatic flinch. She went to the refrigerator in the back of the room. A moment later, she returned with one of those freezer packs. Marie took it with a sigh of relief. "Thanks."  
  
"No problem." Buffy tried for a smile. "You think you're the only one who makes with the beatings and the bruisings?"  
  
"I thought your Slayer thing would help with that."  
  
"It does." Buffy winked at Marie. "Giles keeps them around for when he gets knocked unconscious – of course, that's about once or twice a week."  
  
"Oh."  
  
They stood there in the middle of the training room, Marie pressing the freezer pack against her hand, Buffy watching with concern from the side. She noticed that Marie wouldn't look her in the eye. Awkwardly, Buffy tried to reach out to the other girl. "So – "  
  
"How do you deal with it?" Marie asked suddenly, eyes still staring straight ahead.  
  
Buffy frowned, confused. "Deal with what?"  
  
"Being what you are. Knowing that it is what you will always be."  
  
Buffy blinked as she understood what Marie meant. She wanted to know how Buffy coped with being the Slayer. As she fumbled for words, Marie answered her own question. "Oh, I remember now. You deal with friends, with companionship. You deal by not being alone."  
  
That's true, Buffy realized. That was how she dealt. "You can deal the same way. I don't know what Giles told you that made you all punch bag happy, but you're not alone." Buffy reached out and touched Marie on the arm, refusing to draw back when Marie flinched. "You've got the whole Scooby Gang on your side, remember?"  
  
Marie tried to pull away, as memories bubbled to the surface. Buffy's memories. Memories that she had stolen. "Maybe I should be alone."  
  
Buffy refused to let her friend flee. "Says who? I've got a whole prophecy that says it's supposed to be me against the demons, and you don't see me playing by the rules. And Marie, last I checked you didn't have a prophecy and a council of stuffy old British guys trying to boss you around, so you've got even less a 'should' than me."  
  
"Giles said I'll never be able to control my powers," Marie blurted out. She needed to make Buffy understand exactly what was wrong, why she felt the way she did.  
  
Buffy let go and stepped back. Not the most surprising piece of information, but not the best. Inwardly, she shuddered at the fate she knew Marie faced – to live with the entire world a step away. Outwardly, she summoned as much confidence as she could. "And that automatically makes you hermit-girl? So you get to wear gloves for the rest of you life. Consider it a fashion statement. But that doesn't mean – "  
  
"Doesn't mean what? Buffy, it means I can't be near anybody for fear that I'll end up violating them!"  
  
"Violating?"  
  
"Yes. Like what I did to you."  
  
Buffy shook her head; this was going beyond her. "Huh?"  
  
"You don't understand, do you?" Marie demanded. "You think this is an inconvenience. You think that this is some magical mishap that's left me overreacting. You think what I did to you is nothing. Guess what? It's not nothing."  
  
"Marie, what happened was an accident. I don't hold it against you. Do you think I should?" she asked as she tried to understand her friend.  
  
"No, I don't want that. But I don't want you to forget about it, either." Marie bit her lip, seeking to explain the true curse of her power. "Buffy, you are inside me."  
  
"I understand that your power takes a piece of a person into your mind. You told me that last night."  
  
"I did. But there's more. It's not just a piece; it's everything. Buffy, I don't have a piece of you inside my head. I have all of you. Everything that means to be you is now part of me. And that's how I know what you think of this. You seek to comfort me, but you still pity my fate. You deny the sense of violation that comes from me knowing, because you always deny what you don't want to acknowledge. In my mind, I can see each and every instant you closed your eyes. Your calling, the true nature of Angel, his death and his return, why you hate Faith, your problems with Riley – I know. I know the reasons, I know the emotions, I know the instant the situation changed. I know the only reason you ran after Riley was because of what Xander had said, and that as much as it broke your heart to see him leave, you were relieved that there was one less person to worry about." The words poured out of Marie, as she needed to share, needed to explain the truth. Needed to release what was boiling about inside her.  
  
Buffy listened to Marie's outpouring, as it finally sunk into her what Marie meant. It was frightening, the insight Marie had into her. Marie knew exactly how she felt and what she thought, down to the details that, like Marie had said, Buffy didn't want to acknowledge.  
  
"Do you see now?" Marie pleaded. "Do you see what it means?"  
  
"I'm inside you. You tell me." Buffy hadn't wanted to come off so snappish, but the intimacy of Marie's words had frightened her.  
  
For once Marie didn't flinch at the harsh words. "Someone gets too close and they get cut," she responded, something inside her replying in kind. "Classic Buffy. You're telling me I'm don't have to be alone? That's rich. You are too. As far as you're concerned, all the Scoobies are just window dressing. In the end, you're always alone."  
  
"Thanks for the insight."  
  
"You're welcome. And you do see what I mean now, but it frightens you. You wonder how I might use this power against you, even as you struggle to remind yourself I am your friend. But now that I have shown you how my power hurts its victims, I think we will have some troubles in that department." Marie started to leave, throwing the ice bag to Buffy. "If you don't mind, I think I need to go for a walk."  
  
Buffy watched Marie leave. This encounter had not ended the way she had wanted when it started. Marie seemed to have intentionally gone out of her way to be hurtful. But as much as these revelations troubled Buffy, this was the strongest, most outspoken she had ever seen Marie be. She frowned, then called out. "Last night you said this hurts you, too. How?"  
  
Marie turned around. "I'm not ready to share that yet."

* * *

Marie wandered down the street, having breezed past Giles and Anya on her way out. Both had overheard the raised voices – Giles had wanted to know what was wrong, Anya wanted to know if anything was broken that needed shop funds to be replaced. She had been remarkably bitchy in response.  
  
As she passed an alley by the Bronze, a voice echoed in her mind, _"Whatever is causing the Joan Collins 'tude, deal with it. Embrace the pain, spank your inner moppet, whatever, but get over it."_ It wasn't one of her constant companions, though. It was a memory. Marie paused, the fuzzy image of a dark haired woman coalescing in her mind. The woman was calling her out for bitchy, hurtful behavior – behavior that had been brought on by her death at the hands of the Master.  
  
Marie growled and would have punched the brick wall, if her hand hadn't still been sore. Buffy. It was Buffy's memories in the forefront, subtly manipulating her. And with Buffy's death so close to home after last night's dream, she found herself coping the same way the Slayer had. Only there weren't any Master bones for her to grind up for closure.  
  
She so needed to find a way to take control and keep herself as, well, herself. And not playing out the echoes of another life.  
  
Marie considered turning around and asking Giles to start her with some meditation exercises, but decided that was too close to being Buffy for the moment. Even if Buffy would avoid meditation exercises like a vampire avoided sunlight. And there she went again with the Buffy thoughts.  
  
Marie took a deep breath. Whenever things got too stressful, there was only one thing left. Run.  
  
She paused. Did she want to truly run, to flee? Marie thought of all those trains and buses she could hop on in an instant. It would be so easy. Be gone and Buffy would fade away, with nothing left to remind her of her existence. That's what she had done before.  
  
But not this time. This time there was Joyce. Dawn. Giles. And Buffy, who given time could give Marie the empathy she needed. Marie knew she could find peace here, if she was willing to try. And she was. 


	9. Like Us

Thank you, thank you to everyone who reviewed. You are much appreciated!

Disclaimer: Some dialogue used in this chapter was taken from Blood Ties, courtesy of buffyworld . com Beta credit goes to Chelle86, best email pal a girl can ask for.

_Like Us_

It was Buffy's birthday. Everyone was crowded into the living room, talking and laughing. The coffee table was overflowing with gifts, all shiny and brightly wrapped. Sugary and caffeinated beverages (and a few alcoholic as well) were flowing freely, giving one and all a pleasant party buzz. Willow was blowing bubbles all over the place while Buffy begged in a six year old voice to open the presents, her mother saying no each time, but with less force minute by minute.

It was a warm, welcoming sight. However, Marie didn't feel particularly warm or welcomed. Ever since her outburst to Buffy three days ago, things had cooled between them. Buffy wasn't exactly rude to the other girl, or even particularly standoffish. She was just……cool. Polite. Saying please and thank you, and even making conversation at the dinner table, but never about anything very deep or meaningful.

Marie couldn't say her feelings were hurt by Buffy's behavior. She was used to being treated far, far worse. And for the first time in her life, she didn't expect it to last. Buffy would come around – eventually. Until then, Marie would give her some space.

"……Now gimme gimme gimme!"

Marie looked up to see Buffy ripping open the first present. She smiled, noting the childlike joy on Buffy's face, as she slipped into the role of birthday girl and not the Slayer. A whisper in her mind informed her how much Buffy needed days like this – and how thin the veneer of the birthday girl was. Someday, Marie thought to herself, I'd like to wear a birthday girl mask. I'd like to stand there, laughing and joking as if I had no worries at all. It would just be a mask, and that would be okay.

Lost in her own thoughts, Marie didn't even notice that all the presents had been unwrapped until it became cake time.

"Do you want a piece, Marie?" Tara asked, reaching out to the girl. Dealing with Marie was always tricky – you never knew if now was the right time to push her out of her shell. Today, Tara could tell, pushing was completely out of the question. But a gentle nudge could be quite effective.

"Yes. Thank you."

Like that.

"Then I'll make sure there's a plate for you." Tara turned to the official dish-getter. "Dawn - ?"

"I can count you know," Dawn griped as she turned to the kitchen. Tara called out a thank you, then turned back to Willow. "Oh to be fourteen and traumatized by the slightest request," she said with a dramatic sigh.

"Looks like they made her with 100% teenage angst," Willow whispered. "That's one thing the monks could have left out."

"It's all part of the package – "

They stopped whispering as Dawn returned with the plates. And proceeded to notice the sudden stop in conversation. Marie was not surprised at all by the following explosion. The Scoobies had not been very subtle in their newfound strangeness with Dawn. They had a harder time dealing with Dawn than Marie – a fact that fascinated Marie. Did they think the younger girl wouldn't notice? Dawn wasn't stupid. She knew something was wrong.

Fed up with the lack of answers, Dawn stormed upstairs. Silence reigned for a moment. Willow broke it, awkwardly offering up some cake, as if some sugar would fix the problem.

Yeah right. The only thing that really needed to be done was tell Dawn the truth, as bad as it was. Even if she was an innocent. Even if she deserved better than existing only as a byproduct of a monk's spell. But Marie doubted that was going to happen. Dawn was right – too many things were labeled as too dangerous for precious Dawnie ears.

Cake was quietly passed around. No one knew what to say in the aftermath of Dawn's tantrum. Both Joyce and Buffy wore strained expressions, embarrassed by the teen's display. Maybe even feeling a little guilty as to the cause.

Good. Served them right. Marie empathized with the youngest Summers, even if she did know for a fact exactly who was responsible for the peanut-butter fried salmon disaster of two years ago that she got in trouble for when it was **so **Dawn's fault – how come Mom always fell for puppy eyes and the words "Buffy did it!" even though Mom knows I hate salmon and think it's icky and oh look there's a cake with my name on it and remind me again why I was feeling sorry for my sister?

Oh, wait. Because she's not my six years younger made up mystical energy sister. Because I'm Marie. Not Buffy. Buffy is over there, trading bad jokes with Xander. Marie is standing right here, eating a piece of cake and wishing it really was her birthday. Because sometimes, she's not sure she can remember which day does belong to her.

* * *

Later that night, the party began to wind down. Everyone was sprawled about on sofas and chairs, luxuriating in the wholly enjoyable sensation of being stuffed to the gills with cake and ice cream. Marie sat stiffly on a stool brought in from the kitchen (there wasn't enough furniture for everyone) and watched Willow and Tara comfort a moping Buffy about the departed Riley. 

"Not even a card, huh?"

Buffy shook her head. "I wasn't really expecting one. No contact with civilians. There's probably a ... code name for it. You know, like radio silence, it's 'greeting card silence'." She paused a moment, eyes flicking over to Marie. Her right to mourn lost boyfriends felt trampled on with those dark eyes watching her, remembering their conversation from before. Marie's remark about Riley's departure, that it had been a relief to Buffy, had been an insight she could have done without. Stupid insights. Buffy glared at Marie, as if goading her to denounce her post-bday bash mope session as an exercise in self-pity. (Okay, maybe it was, but it was deserved self-pity!)

Marie surprised her.

"You're probably right. The military has a 'greeting card silence' policy, if only as a get out of jail free card for guys who forget anniversaries. Sorry I forgot about the fiftieth honey, we were under greeting card silence, codename 'Down with Hallmark'." Marie paused reflectively, "Alternatively, we could declare the ex in question to be a stupid head. Whatever works."

Buffy smiled, the first smile at Marie in three days. Marie smiled back. "Thanks for the thought. Really, maybe this is a sign – "

Xander stirred suddenly. "Did Marie just make a joke? I didn't know she did that!"

"She made a joke," Anya told him reassuringly. To Marie, she said, "It was not very funny, but good effort!" She punctuated the last phrase with a hearty punch on the arm and a wide smile.

"Ow." Marie rubbed her sore elbow, inwardly pleased with Anya's easy contact.

"As I was saying, maybe I should start a new tradition – " Buffy began again.

Tara quickly cut her off, her eyes widening. "Oh, oh my god!"

Heads turned to see what she saw. Dawn stood in the doorway, a knife in one hand, a long cut in her arm dripping blood. Her eyes were red from crying, yet she didn't seem to be reacting to the pain. Her wobbly voice cut through the air with a high pitched, hysterical note.

"Is this blood?"

Joyce and Buffy rushed over to the girl.

"What did you do?" demanded Buffy, examining the gaping wound.

"This is blood, isn't it? It can't be me. I'm not a key. I'm not a thing." Dawn's voice was thick and caked with bitterness. Joyce murmured comforting words and a reassuring pat as she took the knife, only for Dawn to wrench herself away. "What am I? Am I real? Am I anything?" She was sobbing now, harsh choked sobs that gasped for air. "Tell me!"

Joyce hugged Dawn close, gently guiding her to the kitchen to be bandaged. As they walked away, Buffy turned to her friends. They were all standing anxiously, waiting to be told how to help. She swallowed. "Looks like Buffy's birthday fun tradition continues for yet another year," she said awkwardly, for lack of any other words. "Listen, I think it would be best for all of you to – "

"Vamoose?" Xander finished. "You need anything, you know where I'll be." He gave Buffy a hug, and with Anya in tow, left. Willow and Tara followed suit, with similar offers of assistance if so desired. Buffy thanked them before letting them out. Giles lingered a moment with his own offer. Buffy quietly told him it was a family matter before closing the door behind him. She turned around, shoulders slumped, face wet with tears.

Marie walked over and laid a gentle hand on Buffy's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. She then opened the door and prepared to follow Giles home. Or maybe Tara.

Buffy looked up and noticed Marie was about to leave.

"Don't go."

Marie turned. "This is a family matter. I'd only be in the way."

Buffy shrugged. "Maybe. But you live here. This affects you, too. " Pause. "This doesn't mean I'm forgiving you for the whole bitch-fest from earlier, though."

"Don't worry. I've spanked my inner Moppet."

"Huh?" Something about that phrase sounded familiar to Buffy…..

Marie shook her head, not wanting to explain. "Go help your sister. I'll clean up."

Buffy lingered a moment. "Thanks." She started to leave, then asked, "Is she your sister too?"

"A little bit. Sometimes. When she's hurt like this, part of me just wants to – "

" – yell at her for scaring me, but also – "

" – slay whatever's made her feel this way." Marie paused. "But she's **your** sister, not mine. Go to her. She needs you."

This time, Buffy obeyed.

Marie stood still a moment, taking in a deep breath. She did think that right now, Dawn needed to be with both her mother and sister. Her **real **sister. Even if the reality was fabricated. As she carefully collected assorted plates and cups, Marie hoped Dawn would be able to accept this new reality as true, regardless of its origins.

The living room straightened and all the trash cleaned up, Marie walked upstairs, stopping a moment beside the door to Dawn's room. Inside, she could hear both Joyce and Buffy trying to explain what they knew – and why they had not told her. Dawn wasn't buying it. Suddenly, the air was filled with –

"GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!"

Joyce and Buffy filed out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind them.

"That could have gone better," Joyce sighed. And finally let herself cry. "She hurt herself! My baby cut herself because she thinks she isn't real!"

Buffy hugged her mother. "She is, Mom. You and I know she is. And as soon as we can get some answers about the Key, she'll know she is, too. She, she just needs – I don't know what she needs."

Joyce wiped her eyes. "She needs her family to love her, that's what. That's all we can do, love her."

"Will that be enough?"

"Of course it will be," Marie said quietly, making her presence known. "I know if my family had, well," cared enough to not call me a life-sucking monster "been full of as much love as this one, I would have been fine. And she will be. Eventually."

"It's the eventually that hurts the most."

"I know."

* * *

The day following the revelation of Dawn's nature was a wholly uncomfortable one. Dawn remained moody and uncommunicative, abruptly leaving for school, only to be sent home early. She was suspended for swearing at a teacher. In the hours Dawn was gone, Buffy bustled about, trying to rally the Scoobies into learning enough to appease whatever questions Dawn might possess. Marie followed along, watching all the action, even waiting outside the crypt while Buffy ripped at Spike for letting Dawn find out. 

In Marie's opinion, Spike was right in his response. Buffy **should** have told Dawn the truth sooner, and she shouldn't be taking that guilt out on others. But her innate knowledge of Buffy told her it really wouldn't have happened another way. In Buffy's mind, Dawn had to be protected – even if it was from things she had a right to know.

Marie said nothing as they left. That is, until Buffy spoke, obviously agitated.

"Should I have told her? Is Spike right?"

"He is."

"There is something very wrong with that statement. Spike is right. Gyuh! Not cool."

"That doesn't change the fact that Dawn deserved the truth from a sit down chat from her mother and sister."

"We were going to! When she was older. Much older."

"Did you think she wouldn't notice before then?" Marie shook her head. "Your sister is smart, Buffy. She knew people were treating her differently, and she knew there was a reason. That's why she snuck off last night. And if not last night, it would have been another night."

"Maybe. But still – " Buffy broke off, then started again. "I didn't want it to be like this. I wanted her to just stay my little sister. Stay Dawnie and not be some Key. She deserved better than that. She deserved to be young and innocent. She deserved to be fourteen, not a thousand or however old that thing is."

"Of course she did. So did we. You deserved to be a cheerleader and then a college girl. I deserved a boy I could kiss and not kill. Life didn't work like that. It made a Slayer and a mutant. And now it's done the same to Dawn and made her like me. Like you. Like us." Marie stopped a moment, taking a deep breath to take the plunge. "And on some level, that's what bothers you the most. You thought you could save Dawn from that mystical fate you couldn't save yourself from. Well, you couldn't. She is what she is and she'll have to deal with that. And with her sister by her side, she can."

Buffy frowned. "You know what Marie?"

"Yes?"

"I hate it when you do that. Going all psychology-y on me. Kinda freaky."

"Sorry." Marie ducked her head and speeded up.

"But it's okay." Buffy shrugged. "Better you than Spike, I guess."

"Oh. Well, that's good, right?"

"Yes, it is."

* * *

Unfortunately, Dawn was not hearing the message of love and concern that was being sent to her. Later that night, she set her diaries on fire and ran off, her disappearance unnoticed until the smoke alarm went off. Sunnydale being Sunnydale, Dawn's vanishing act panicked everyone. Marie joined the frantic search party, calling out the girl's name to every shadow and alleyway, hoping for an answer. She followed Buffy and Spike through the park and by the swing set and seesaw, growing more and more agitated by the moment. Her sister was out there, dammit, and so was Glory! Not to mention dozens of other baddies. Marie was intimately aware with all the monsters, demonic and not, that preyed upon vulnerable young girls. Anything could happen. 

With that in mind, the group found Sunnydale Hospital their final destination, hoping a slightly injured Dawn had been brought in by some kind soul and was now sulkily awaiting treatment.

There was no such luck.

They waited in the lobby as Buffy checked with the registration desk for any information.

"She wasn't brought in."

"That's a happy thing, right?" Xander asked.

Buffy sighed. "I don't know, I – "

A doctor walked by them, openly distraught. " – found him on the floor in the break room. You guys gotta see him. His head's almost twisted clean off."

"Glory."

* * *

Marie followed the Scoobies as they pursued the hellgod. She had never met the god in person, only in memories and dreams. The sheer power Glory commanded was enough to crush Buffy. What could they do to stop her if she did have Dawn? Glory treated Buffy's best efforts like that of annoying horse fly – it's bite stung, but you could easily swat it away. 

If Glory had Dawn…..Marie glanced down at her gloved hand. If Glory had Dawn, she'd do what was necessary to protect her. Glory always had a lot of exposed skin with those skank dresses she wore…..

"Get away from my sister!" Buffy shouted, bursting through the door, Marie skidding to a halt behind her.

Glory smiled in that girly-girl way of hers. "We were just talking about you!" she proclaimed, as if she was an old friend Buffy had just run into. Dawn took advantage of Glory's distraction and ran behind her sister.

Buffy didn't embrace Glory's girl talk invitation. "Conversation's over, hell-bitch." She threw a punch, engaging the hellgod in battle. They traded blows a moment, then Buffy slammed her into a display case. Marie found herself reaching for her glove and loosening the fabric, getting ready to take her shot. How would Glory mess with her mind? She wondered. Could she drain enough to make a difference? That thought was lost as a vampire hurled itself into the room.

Spike grappled with the hellgod, pinning her arms to her sides, letting Buffy come in for a punch. But the moment was lost when Glory sent him flying with the words, "He wakes up, tell your boyfriend to watch his mouth."

That didn't look good. Marie swallowed and maneuvered behind Glory. It would be best to do it from the back, have the element of surprise.

"He's not my boyfriend!" Buffy retorted, before attacking again.

Marie gave a mental snort. Maybe not to you, honey, but to him… Marie had heard him today. Walking Dawn home? Offering words of comfort in Buffy's hour of need? Uh-huh.

In quick succession, Buffy struck Glory, Giles shot her with a crossbow, and Xander came in with a tire iron – which was quickly wrestled away from him. Glory threw it at Dawn, only to strike Buffy instead. The Slayer had thrown herself in front, taking the tire iron in the arm.

The glove came off Marie's hand. She started forward.

Glory stood there and laughed, barely frazzled. "Nice catch. Is that the best you little crap-gnats can muster? 'Cause I gotta tell ya, so not impressed."

Marie was lined up for a shot. Will this impress you? Before she could make contact, however, the witches threw a glittering powder onto Glory.

"Discede!" commanded Willow, clapping her hands.

An explosion rocked the room, knocking Marie back and Willow to the floor. Glory disappeared.

Marie got to her feet with a sigh of relief, slipping her glove back on. Across the room, Buffy frowned, noticing the gesture before turning to tend to her sister.

Thankfully, Buffy's stab wound was the worst wound received, and one that would heal readily enough. Marie followed the Scoobies out, smiling at the renewed ease of banter between Buffy and Dawn.

They were sisters. Sisters by a bizarre trick of fate, but sisters nonetheless. And that was now enough.

* * *

Much later that night, after the story of the battle had been told and retold again and Willow had finally stopped her nosebleed, and after all had gone home and Dawn was tucked safely in bed, Buffy found Marie on the couch in the living room. 

The brunette sat there quietly – of course, she did most things quietly. Her gloves were on tight, and not an inch of skin was exposed from the neck down.

Buffy settled down beside her.

"I saw what you were about to do."

"And what was that?"

"Touch Glory. Do whatever you did to me to her."

"That was the plan."

"You would have taken a piece of Glory into yourself." Buffy tilted her head to meet Marie's eyes. "You would have had a crazy hellgod floating inside your skull." She thought a moment. "You told me your power hurts you, too. So far all I've seen is me getting all drain-y and you getting all insight-y. But that's not all. You have Glorys in your head, don't you?"

"No hellgods, but there are other sorts of monsters. Mostly the human kind. And even then, mostly brief contact. That's really what worried me about draining Glory. I'd have to hold on a while before I took enough for it to work."

"The longer you drain, the more comes in, and the longer it stays. I remember you telling me that."

"Yes. But even with the little bits, the monsters hurt. They squirm and squeal and ask to be let out. And yes, I know I'm channeling Drusilla."

"Are you ever worried the monsters will take control?"

Marie shrugged. "Always. So far, whatever's left of Marie has stayed in charge. Who knows? Someday that might change."

"If you had taken in Glory, it would have."

"Maybe. But the power would have been split. And you could defeat half a Glory."

"Even if it meant killing you?" Buffy asked.

"If it came to that, there wouldn't be a me left to kill." Marie pointed out. "But it didn't."

Buffy bit her lip, trying to figure out how to word the next question. "What makes you think it would be worth that? I mean – I know you think of Dawn as your sister, in some weird way. But she's not. She's mine. And if anyone needs to make the sacrifice it will be – "

"Me."

"No! Marie – "

"She is your sister, Buffy," Marie explained, "and that's why if I could choose, I'd be the one doing it. She needs you a hell of a lot more than she needs me. Or anyone needs me, for that matter."

"Marie – "

"I'm not suicidal. Believe me, I hope it never comes to that. But Buffy, as long as Glory's alive and kicking, I'll consider draining her an option. Even if I have no idea what it will do, it's still an option." Marie paused. "and don't think this is just because of the drain-thing I did to you. Joyce, Dawn, you – you've all done so much for me. More than you probably realize. And if I can, I will repay it."

Buffy stared at her friend. To think she'd thought this girl to be some lowdown threat to her mother. To herself. She blinked quickly, suddenly discovering her eyes filled with tears. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." Marie looked down, blushing because of the heart to heart. "Now go to bed before this gets too mushy."

Buffy stood up. And very, very consciously of what she was doing, leaned over and gave Marie a great big hug, as close as she could without touching skin to skin. Marie returned it with equal gusto and care.

And knew now, 100%, that there was no need ever to run again.

* * *

A/N – No, this is not the end! There is much Dawn/Marie and Spike/Marie bonding to come. Not to mention, the next chapter contains the first appearance of Rogue . Please drop me a line as to what you think, it gives me a happy. 


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